The Fate of the Wandering
by twinklet26
Summary: Post-KOTOR 2: A war awaits as the Exile pursues Revan into the clutches of a mysterious planet with the help of some old allies. The past continues to haunt and allegiances will be decided. "To bring the end, someone must fall..."
1. Prologue: Into the Dusk

**Disclaimer: **Copyright LucasArts, Obsidian, Bioware, and whoever else. Except for the story, certain characters, certain places, etcetera. I sound like a mantra.

**Author's Note: **Anyways, this is an edited version of the prologue. Originally I was trying to think up an explanation for why HK was found all strung up in that compartment at the start of KOTOR 2, and I thought I was being rather clever about it, making Revan the cause of it, but Star Wars Wiki ruined it all for me and I discovered everything I had done wrong. ;) I couldn't change everything because that would ruin the story I had already started, but it's close enough. Hopefully? Anyways, here is the story. I hope you like.

-tWiNkLeT.

**Prologue of The Fate of the Wandering**: Into the Dusk

**O**nce again at the beginning of all things, Elaine Skylar stood at the ramp of the ship she had come to know so well. Her dark violet eyes, now tinged with light tints of deep red, surveyed the scene.

They would be asleep now, unaware of the fact that she was returning. Unaware that she would be leaving once again. Images of Malachor V were still imprinted in her memory, vague enough to still lure her to curiosity, yet sharp enough to remind her of her pressing duty. Her return visit there had reminded her, if nothing else, of what she still had to do.

She exhaled slowly, and turned to her two droid companions. "Alright, so this is our stop. Home sweet home, and all that. But I've never been fond of reunions. You do understand what I'm trying to say?"

HK-47's red eyes glittered as he spoke. "Recitation: Ah, yes, Master. Summarization: That the knowledge you've regained on that black hole of a planet we just left has reminded you of a duty you possess that consists of killing many, many Sith. And that you have returned back to our ship only to regain certain materials, most specifically of the edible sustenance kind, so that you can leave to another black hole of a planet that you have to attend to. Query: My programming is only wondering _why _you do not connect 'Killing many, many Sith' to bringing along me, who is, if you will find the strength within yourself to recall, Master, an _assassin _droid. Humble Statement: My programming may or may not be as advanced as your squishy brain cells; however, I find my logic is quite intact."

T3-M4 beeped and swirled around in circles in what seemed to be passionate and indignant agreement.

Elaine gave a small, reluctant smile, but she shook her head. "While I appreciate your obvious and somewhat expected enthusiasm for slaughtering hundreds or more of Sith, this 'duty' you speak of is something that I need to solve myself. HK, you've been a faithful companion of mine for a long time, and you too, T3, but while my duty lies elsewhere, yours lies here. I have important missions for both of you."

As she talked, the droids listened, and a figure by a window in the _Ebon Hawk _chanced upon glimpsing them at the bottom of the ramp. The figure waited.

"Not a word, okay?" Elaine reminded T3 and HK. "They can't know I've returned." She turned back towards the ship and ran a hand through her long dark curls. She let out a low, soft whistle. "Here goes."

Inside the Ebon Hawk, it was cool, dark, and quiet, save for the low hum of the Ebon Hawk's engine; however, it was a sound Elaine was so used to that it might as well have been deathly quiet. Although this atmosphere mirrored their outside surroundings of the planet Deralia, Elaine's feelings of guilt, fear, and cowardice seemed magnified by a hundred in here. _Get what you need, then get out_, she told herself. _As fast as possible. Just focus on that. Don't think of anything else. Don't think. _

HK and T3 parted ways, heading stealthily, or in T3's case, gliding, towards their previous 'claimed' locations. Elaine watched them go, then brought her mind back to her objective.

It should be easy. All she needed to do was turn left, and she was in the Starboard Dormitory once again. Except it wasn't empty, of course. Mission lay fast asleep on one of the beds, her blue head-tails curled around her shoulders. She was breathing gently, curled up into a fetus position. Elaine bit her lip and kept moving to her bunk, where she reached into the secret compartment.

She replenished the pack on her back with medpacs, food, water pouches, and grenades, before standing up and quietly closing the compartment. As she swept towards the door, she heard Mission mumble something like, "Don't want to…play pazaak…with gizka…they cheat…"

It was something that would earlier have made her laugh, but now it just made her heart ache. "Good-bye, Mission," Elaine whispered, and left through the door.

She had one last thing to do. She walked forward into the main hold and reached into her pockets to take hold of a holovid. She held it briefly, running her hands over the contours hesitatingly, before leaving it there on the table, and walking away. The table was still littered with near-empty cups of jumas and caffas. She wondered how they had spent their time while she had been away.

Elaine paused at the intersection, although she knew she should be long gone by now. One way would take her back, down the ramp, mission accomplished. The other…She slowly turned her head left, towards the cockpit. Her violet, eyes, full of emotion, passion, and memories, never seemed to hold as much conflict and longing as now. And shame. Most of all shame.

She walked, but it felt as though something else had taken control of her legs entirely. Her thoughts were already flying ahead of her.

He was there, of course. Elaine tightened her grip on her pack and walked forward. Carth was sprawled, fast asleep in the pilot seat, snoring slightly, a stray strand of brown hair resting lazily on his forehead. Elaine smiled despite herself. The same as always.

She moved closer and made a gesture as though to gently brush his hair away, but stopped herself. She couldn't chance waking him. She stepped backwards and closed her eyes, attempting to breath. _It's time to go_. _I can't stay._

When she re-opened her eyes, she was in the hallway again, heading back to the main hold, and then the ramp, angrily ignoring the wetness that had begun to gather in her eyes. _I was doing just fine before that_, she thought to herself harshly. _What was I thinking, going there? _

"Going somewhere, Elaine?" a voice pointedly inquired.

Caught.

Elaine turned around to face Bastila Shan, who was looking at her expectantly. She stood with poise and dignity as always. Her dark brown hair was in two ponytails, the tendrils softly falling around her pale face, and her blue eyes seemed older than when Elaine had seen them last.

"Of course," she continued. "I should think that ridiculous, considering that I believe you had just left us only a few days before to 'revisit your birthplace' and that you would 'return shortly.'" She cocked her head to one side. "Is that not what you told us?"

"I didn't exactly lie," Elaine said testily. She held herself straighter. "I _am _going to revisit it. Someone, to be exact. And I did 'return shortly,' didn't I?" She smiled, although the humor didn't reach her eyes. "No harm, no foul, eh, Bassy?"

Bastila shook her head vigorously. "Enough with the nicknames. You know how I hate that."

"All too well." Elaine smiled sadly, and Bastila saw, and knew that they would be able to reach an understanding.

"I know that you've re-discovered the things you needed to re-learn at wherever you escaped to," Bastila said. "And I know you have…somewhere else you need to be. I saw the worry in your eyes not too long ago on the beach at the Rakatan world. I just need your affirmation that this is really the way you want it to be. And if it is…it will be hard, but I will try to understand. I will let it go."

Elaine stared down at her feet for a moment, but when she re-joined her gaze with Bastila's, it shone bright. "It is. I've thought about this more than you can possibly know. If they found out, Bastila, they won't let me go alone. One person, in particular." Bastila nodded knowingly. "I may only be one person and this may be an immensely colossal threat, but I can't endanger anyone's life other than my own. Anyway, no one likes goodbyes. It's just…easier, this way. For all of us, I think.

"And what should I tell them, when they wake up? Our ship can't be on this planet forever, supposedly waiting for you. And since I'm the last one to see you, I might be held accountable. Of course," Bastila added hastily, "that's the least of anyone's worries."

"I left a holovid in the main hold. My way of saying goodbye without getting too much attention."

Bastila laughed hollowly. "Attention is exactly what you'll get beyond the Outer Rim."

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Elaine sighed and hugged a surprised Bastila who patted her back awkwardly as though not used to such devotion and affection. Elaine pulled away reluctantly. "Watch after them," she told Bastila. "They'll need to look to someone after I am gone."

"Watch your back," Bastila advised. "Especially since there will be no one else to watch it for you."

There was a pause. "That sounded oddly wrong, Bastila," Elaine jested good-humoredly.

Bastila rolled her eyes, yet could not resist a smile. "I will miss you and your somewhat barbaric ways. Good-bye, Elaine."

"Jedi Princess," Elaine said back teasingly, just as formally, yet there was a sincere 'thank you' in her tone and eyes. With the pack on her back, she descended down the _Ebon Hawk_'s ramp and departed.

Outside in the dark, she tried not to look back at their ship, but found she couldn't prevent herself from doing so. However, darkness enshrouded her and made it nearly impossible. She could only distinguish a silhouette. And so she left it behind.

Later she was fastening her seatbelt in the small shuttle she had bought and taken to Malachor V previously. Elaine put on her Verpine Headband to help her eyesight that was steadily getting more blurry with each day. Then she lifted off once again, expertly navigating the controls, although once high up above the ground, she felt a little queasy. "Come on, Elaine," she prodded herself. "Whoever heard of a former Sith Lord afraid of heights?"

She knew she had to fight the real, unknown evil beyond the Outer Rim. And she knew someone would try to come after her. But she would make sure that she'd be very difficult to find.


	2. 1: Worthiness & Readiness

**Chapter 1 of the Fate of the Wandering:** Worthiness & Readiness

_**H**er shape loomed out in front of all of them, in a holographic form. Elaine Skylar looked sadder than usual, as though she was about to foretell sad news. Her curly black hair was tied into a ponytail, and her purple eyes were misty with regret. Her blue Jedi Knight robe hugged her slim form, and her two lightsabers hung on her belt. But she managed a smile, like she always was able to do. _

"_I…well, there's no easy way to say this. We've been through so much together. And yet, I'm destined to go and venture way out of Republic Space. I have a mission to do there. And there, I cannot take anyone I love." She paused, and her eyes seemed to try to find Carth's. But maybe that was just his imagination._

"_Nothing ever stays the same," she continued. In her soft face, everyone could see this was much harder for her than her battle speeches her former self used to give. "We all know that. You have to all go your separate ways, do what you planned to originally do when this was all over. _

"_I honestly don't know if I'm coming back." She bit her lip charismatically. "But I sure as hell hope I do." She half-heartedly laughed softly. "But I ask you this: Don't come after me. Don't worry. But mostly, don't try to follow. This path is mine alone, and I'd feel…terrible if one of you died trying to do so. _

"_But promise you won't forget me." In the hologram, they heard some static and then Mission's cheery voice saying, "Come on! Let's go kick some Sith butt!" Elaine tried to smile, but a tear dripped down her cheek. "I have to go," she whispered, and the hologram turned off._

There was silence in the main hold for a few seconds. The whole crew of the Ebon Hawk was there, gathered around a large, round table, huddled around the holovid. Now that it was over, they sat back, lost in their own solitary thoughts.

Finally Carth spoke up. "I can't believe I was asleep when she left," he groaned, face in hands.

Carth was remembering the energy she just seemed to radiate everywhere she went, all those times she had been there for him when he needed her most, all the times she had called him, "Flyboy," and how she had a habit of pouring whole _bottles_ of Corellian honey in her caffas. And Carth remembered how he had lost Morgana, and how he had damned near lost Dustil, his son. But Elaine had helped him prevent that, and he was not about to lose _her_ yet.

"I can't believe you were asleep when she left, Carth," said Mission helpfully, a lame attempt to lighten the situation. However, her eyes were deep pools of sadness.

"Why didn't you tell us she was leaving?" demanded Carth of Bastila, and there were murmurs of assent. Bastila could tell they were still a little wary of her, ever since she had turned back to the Light again. They weren't sure if and when she would turn back to the Dark Side.

Bastila sighed wearily. "Because you would have stopped her from her fate. Don't think I wanted her all for myself. It was her last wish, so I wanted to stay true to that."

The Cathar frowned. "You make it sound as though she's not coming back," Juhani said apprehensively.

"Well, if we can't go after her," Mission reasoned, "there must be somebody else who can."

And the cabin dissolved back into silence.

**::.Five years later.::**

"Demi," whispered a voice.

The petite platinum-blonde rolled over in bed, her sky blue eye and her light green eye blinking open reluctantly. "What?"

"Take a look at this." The voice was Mira's, and she sounded pretty impressed. The charismatic red-head, and former-bounty-hunter-turned-Jedi, was holding a hologram.

"What?" Demi, short for Demia Thress, said again, and sat up, just in time to make contact with the wooden frame of the bed on top of hers. She groaned as dark pinpricks obscured her vision briefly, and she doubled up before putting her head back down on the pillow with a sigh. "Mira, what's all this about? We're supposed to be asleep."

"Oh, believe me, I would be. But somebody knocked on our door and left this for you. It just says your name: Demi. I guess they're not much for titles."

Demi pushed back the blankets and rolled out of the bed, to receive a very official looking paper from Mira. "From Admiral Carth." Mira whistled appreciatively.

"Does he always have to wake people up so early in the morning?"

"He's an Admiral, enough said. I'm guessing he has the right to do just about whatever he wants."

Demi raised her eyebrows quizzically at Mira, but turned to look at the paper. It was stamped with the Republic seal. "He wants an urgent conference with me in Room D12," Demi read, perplexed as to what this could be about.

"Urgent, huh? Must be, if he's calling on you at Force-knows-what-time-it-is." Mira yawned and started climbing up the ladder to her top bunk. "You're not secretly eloping, are you?"

Demi rolled her eyes. "Yes, Mira, and I'm also related to Darth Sion. He's going to pilot us to Korriban, where we're going to have our honeymoon."

"That's nice," Mira mumbled, and Demi knew that within a few seconds, she would be a goner. "Send me a postcard, will you?"

Demi grabbed her Jedi robe from off a chair, and tied her hair in a ponytail. "Bye, Mira," she said, smiling fondly at the red-head who was already snoring slightly. Then she swept out the door.

Outside in the hallway, as the door shut behind her, Demi pocketed the hologram. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to remember the feeling she had had in her dream. She had been dancing around in the rain on Dxun, but for some reason, she had been a little girl instead. It hadn't made any sense, but it had been a wonderful dream.

But now she had business to do.

They were in the Republic base on Coruscant, and were about to celebrate the return of Demi & Crew from the clutches of Malachor V that night. The party was a big affair, but Demi didn't feel in the tide of things. She didn't really see what there was to celebrate. However, looking at her companions all tired or injured from previous battles or crashes, she knew that they deserved a break. Besides, the party was also to celebrate the Telos victory. It was herself that she wasn't sure about. She didn't feel as though she had really proved herself yet.

Funny, really. Vanquishing three Sith Lords, helping her companions find peace in themselves with the Force, as well as taking a planet down with her just wasn't enough.

Tightening her brown Jedi Master robe around her, she reached inside her pocket for a map of the area. A package of 'Instant-Chai' came out, but she still couldn't find the map. She fumbled around inside her many pockets for a couple of minutes, taking out everything but what she was looking for. Scowling, she reached down to scoop up all the contents she had uncovered when she sensed somebody in the hall.

It was Atton Rand, his tall frame filling the nearby doorway, the long-evading map in his hand. He was wearing his usual ribbed jacket and a scoundrel-like lazy smile, his thick, brown hair rumpled. His eyes were twinkling with fondness and mischief.

"Looking for this?"

Demi rolled her eyes and strode towards him, hands in her pockets. "So you're lurking in the hallways at four in the morning. Trouble sleeping?"

Atton shrugged. "Something like that. It's _torture _having to share a room with Mical. It really is."

Demi smiled. "It can't be that bad. Unlike some people I know, he actually knows how to make a bed. Besides, he's asleep right now, isn't he?"

Atton just looked at her. "Oh," Demi said, something dawning on her. "He doesn't snore, does he?"

Atton shook his head. "I haven't really had the chance to find out. He's been up all night, meditating, reciting the Jedi Code again and again. If I hear one more, 'There is no emotion…'" His voice trailed off.

"It wouldn't hurt for you to follow his example," Demi said, amused. "Still. Till four in the morning? That's a little extreme."

Atton laughed. "A little? Anyway, just believe me when I say, you got the better part of the deal with Mira. So. What's your excuse?"

"For lurking in the hall?" Demi took the map and unfolded it. "Well, I have to go…there," she said, pointing to a room. "The Admiral called a meeting and I'm supposed to attend."

Atton crinkled his eyebrows. "This early in the morning?"

Demi sighed. "That's exactly what I said. Still. It sounds important."

Atton made way for her in the door. "I'll come with."

Demi shook her head. "You'd be bored. Besides, it sounds very…political. And they probably won't let you in."

"Then I'll come with you to the door."

Demi glanced sideways at him. "All right."

They walked side by side down the hall and down the stairs, silently.

"It's so quiet in the mornings," Demi mused. "I can't decide whether I like it or not." Then, she glanced out a window, and saw the expanse of Coruscant. The sky was gray, and dew encompassed the whole city. The garden below looked like a mystical jungle. "I think I do," she said softly.

They reached the door and both stopped.

"Tell Mical to go to sleep, okay?" Demi said, her eyes twinkling. She started to make her way in, but Atton put a hand on the other side of the doorframe, which acted as a barrier and blocked her from getting any farther. "What's wrong?" Demi said seriously.

Atton sighed, and ran one hand through his hair. "I have something to tell you."

Demi started feeling nervous. "Can't it wait? This won't take too long."

Atton dropped his hand, evidently changing his mind before he had even started. "Yeah. Sure." He gestured at the entrance. "Go in. I'll see you later, after you've had your politically-inclined fun."

Demi snorted indelicately. "Right." But she paused, staring at Atton, then the door. Demi didn't know why, but it was as though, just standing there, somebody was making her make a choice. And she didn't want to. "I guess, then, I have to go."

"That would make sense," Atton agreed. "If you don't want to be late."

Demi hesitated. _Can't leave, can you?_ Atton thought. He looked up, a quirk of amusement at the tip of his mouth, as he heard one of Demi's thoughts. "You're thinking about hitting me with your lightsaber, aren't you?"

"I will when you're least expecting it." And she pushed open the door and was out of sight.

**::.Inside.::**

"Admiral?" Demi whispered, cautiously. The room marked D12 was empty and rather dark. "Hel_lo_?" The only answer was the words echoing back at her. "Anybody here?" She finally found the switch for the light, and turned it on. Instantly, lights in the ceiling flickered on.

"It's nice to finally meet you," said a female voice Demi had never heard before, making her heart jump. On instinct, Demi whirled around at the voice, ready to reach for her lightsaber if need be.

"So you've found the light switch. I was looking for that. It was getting rather annoying, really, wandering around in the dark. It's good you came when you did."

The lady who had spoken had brown hair, a rather confident demeanor, and a double-bladed lightsaber as well, hanging on a belt. "My name is Bastila Shan."

"Of the famed Battle Meditation," Demi said, watching her. "It's an honor to meet you. But what's this meeting about? And where's the Admiral?"

Bastila sighed. "Carth, you mean? He's always rather late, but I'm sure he'll be here in a few minutes. This meeting is, after all, very important to him. And you've yet to understand just how much _very_ means to him." She sat down as well with a light grace.

Then the door bursted open and a blue twi'lek stepped in. She instantly filled the air with energy. "Hey, Bassy. Why are you guys so quiet in here?"

Bastila rolled her eyes. "First Jedi Princess, now Bassy…"

Then a little beeping titter came from the door.

"T3!" Demi exclaimed in delight, pleased to actually know someone in here. "You little trash compactor! Come here…"

"Come to join the party, Canderous?" Mission teased as yet another person entered.

Canderous grimaced. "No," he said simply. "I've come to start it."

"Mandalore?" Demi said in wonder, recognizing his voice.

"That's right," he said, taking a seat.

So this was what he looked like without his Mandalorian armor. Tall and muscular with a stern jaw and graying hair. He had a take-no-crap demeanor that Demi had always respected.

The room then proceeded to be filled with more droids, more people, and other species, all of whom seemed to know each other, including HK. ("Oh, killjoy," Demi muttered. She wasn't as fond of the assassin droid as Elaine was.)

Demi cleared her throat. "No offense, but this is starting to feel like a big family reunion, mostly containing people I don't know. How do you all know each other? And where's the Admiral?"

"Please, call me Carth." Carth Onasi sat down at the head of the table with a good-natured smile, but he looked rather worn-out. His brown hair was rumpled as though he had raked his hands through it many times, he hadn't shaved in days, and his eyes were weary and sad. "Everyone, this is Demia Thress. She was a general during the Mandalorian Wars, and Demi, this is everyone. I'm sorry for having to wake you—and everyone else for that matter—up so early, but this is really the only time I could hold the meeting. You're here because we need to discuss our plan of action, and that plan is going to get put into place tonight."

"Our plan of—" Demi paused, perplexed. "I'm sorry, I don't think I quite understand."

"We talked before you left for Malachor V, do you remember?"

"Yes." How could she not? "I promised to go after her, Revan, that is, help her, and bring her back, or at least let you know that she was safe."

"And to deliver a message," he prodded.

"Oh yes—that you, Carth Onasi, were waiting for her." For five years, too.

"Aw, that's sweet Carth," Mission said, not unkindly. Jolee Bindo, at the corner of the table, coughed something that sounded like, "Not."

"I have a question," Demi persevered. "How do you guys all know each other? How do you all know _her?_"

"It's a long story," said Jolee brusquely. "And I doubt that you have the patience or time to listen to all of it, and if you do, I don't have the time to tell it, which leaves us all in quite a problem."

"It's called summarization, old man," grumbled Canderous. "Look it up."

"We saved the galaxy on the _Ebon Hawk_, which I guess was the same thing you did," offered Mission. "Vanquished a Sith Lord. All in a day's work, you know."

Demi smiled, surprised. "I never knew the _Ebon Hawk _had so much history."

"You'd be surprised," Carth said. "And, Elaine, or Revan as I guess you know her…She means the galaxy to us. We know that you're heading after her, and we want to help you as much as we can."

"And what do you plan to do?"

Bastila half-smiled. "You don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"I want to go back to sleep, that's why," Demi said honestly. But seeing the look on Carth's face, she quieted.

"We have a few leads," Carth continued. "She landed in Deralia, her homeworld, and then, after questioning around, we learned she had bought a shuttle and flew…somewhere else."

_"We have a holovid,"_ Zaalbar, the Wookiee, said, the first thing he had said during the whole meeting. Mission handed it to T3, who played it. Everyone quieted as Elaine Skylar's form once again came up, and she spoke. Carth did not mention he had watched this a hundred times. But Demi could tell. _Talk about obsessive,_ she thought. _This Elaine must be something else._ She had only met Revan once, during the Mandalorian Wars, when she had been on the brink between Light and Dark, and could safely say that she had left an impression upon her.

"So I have to leave and head to Deralia? Do I have to go alone?"

"Agitated Statement: Of course not, meatbag master. I shall accompany you."

Demi flinched. "Anybody _else_?" she asked pointedly.

"Proud Answer: I am all that you need. I was built by Revan, you know. I will have intelligence nobody else has acquired."

"There'll be somebody else coming along," added Carth. "Somebody who isn't as fond of death threats as HK, fortunately. But you'll meet that person tonight."

"I'm leaving during the party, you said?"

"Near the end of it, sure. Is that enough time?"

"Yeah. Okay." Demi exhaled, taking it all in. This certainly changed her life's plans. Not that she really had had any in the first place.

"All right, good. So, just so you're clear about what to do, let's go over our course of action…"

**::.Afterwards.::**

After the meeting's occupants moved out the door, Demi waited in the corridor for Carth. "So," she said. "What's she like?"

"Who?" Carth asked, locking the door.

"You know who."

"Oh, her." Carth paused and looked into space for a while, a weird expression on his face. "Oh, she's unbelievable."

"So…she's worth it?"

Carth looked at her strangely, and brought his hand up as though to start a very long speech, but thought better of it. "Yes, Demi. Yes, she is."

"That's all I needed to hear." And she disappeared down the hall.

* * *

A/N: Some (more) dialogue changes made, hopefully for the better. Some things didn't make sense, and now that I know my characters a bit better, I went back a little for a quick edit. Cheers! 


	3. 2: Regret Does Not Exist

**Chapter 2 of The Fate of the Wandering**: Regret Does Not Exist

"**W**ow Visas," Demi breathed, the night the party took place. The Miraluka was decked in a beautiful maroon gown and had an embroidered veil over her eyes. Her red, full lips smiled as though she had a secret. "You look wonderful."

Mira, nearby, in a stunning, black dress, pocketed a small blaster pistol in one of her dress's pockets. "This," Mira said, "is in case any schutta even _tries_ asking me to dance."

Demi laughed, then took a look at herself. She wore a short-sleeved, lime-green dress that flowed as she moved and brushed the floor. It just showed the tips of her beat-up traveling boots, as she didn't have any other shoes.

But Demi wasn't just going to the celebration to have fun. She had a mission to do. She just hoped nobody would see her attempt to sneak away. And together the three Jedi went downstairs.

**::.Later.::**

The room the celebration was taking place in was large, lighted with a chandelier at the top of the high ceiling, and dozens of people danced in couples on the wide, marble floor. The music that wafted around the room was very unlike the music usually playing in cantinas, and Demi found it strange, and yet vaguely familiar, if that was possible. There were columns all around the outside of the room, the night air and sky visible through the spaces between them.

Demi ate yet another Corellian honey cake, looking around scornfully.

"You look rather bored, General," noted Bao-Dur, who was just watching the activity around them as well. Demi had only once told Bao-Dur it wasn't necessary to call her General anymore, but of course the Iridonian soon forgot. And that was all right. The Mandalorian Wars they had both fought alongside in was one thing the two best friends had in common. Demi felt comfortable with Bao-Dur, like she could tell him anything.

Demi turned to Bao-Dur. "Well, I'm not much for parties, I'll admit."

"You should enjoy yourself while you can. Parties don't last forever."

Demi gave him a look. "Are you going metaphorical on me, Bao-Dur? Live life to its fullest, and everything?"

The Zabrak shrugged, smiling. "I'm just saying, General. It's not all that bad to do so."

"So that explains why you're here in the boring corner with me, instead of dancing or socializing with somebody more interesting."

"No, General. I'm here within arm's reach of the food. I'm good. Besides, your company's not all that bad."

Demi smiled and downed another glass of chai. She was glad nothing had been brought up that would make him suspect she was leaving. Demi was a horrible liar. She felt transparent to pretty much everybody and hated it.

For better or for worse, however, Atton Rand was weaving his way toward them through the throngs of dancers, wearing his new Jedi robes.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked, taking up a position beside them.

"Well, I've eaten up all of the Corellian honey cakes and Bao-Dur pretty much told me, politely, of course, to get a life," Demi informed him, "but other than that, nothing much. You?"

"I got threatened by the bartender for demanding free jumas. You'd think, with us getting rid of three Sith Lords and all, people would be a little more grateful. But, no."

Demi smiled, watching the couples dance to the music. Atton noticed this, and taking a chance, asked, "Care to dance?"

Demi raised her eyebrows. "I can't dance. I'll stomp your feet off. Maybe intentionally. _Probably_ intentionally."

But Atton knew better. "So, let me get this straight," he said. "You'll dance for Vogga the Slimy Hutt, but not with me?"

Demi scowled. "That was just because I was actually going to _gain_ something by doing that. This is different."

_Ouch._ That quieted Atton, and Demi, a few seconds later, realized the little metaphor she had unknowingly hid in there, and instantly regretted it.

"Oh—I'm sorry—I didn't mean—"

(Bao-Dur, at this point, wisely muttered some noncoherent excuse and walked off to join Visas.)

Atton attempted a smile and held his hand up to stop her. "No, it's all right. Point taken. I'm just a scoundrel with no promises whatsoever. So as long as we're talking on that level, what do you say to a game of pazaak?"

Demi smiled wryly. He had it all wrong. She just wanted to leave without any loose ends. She _hated_ loose ends. Turns out, no matter what, there would always be one. "You cheat though," she said, but a little more gently.

That made him laugh. "I like to think I'm resourceful."

"Uh-huh. That's another word for cheater in my book."

"I'll let you win, how's that?"

"_Atton—_" Demi began, but just then, Mical, otherwise known as the Disciple, was heading over in fast strides, blonde hair flying with the wind. He opened his mouth, it seemed, to go back to the dancing question he had asked earlier that evening.

"I—I have to go get some fresh air," Demi muttered to Atton. She liked Mical; he had been the one who had improved her healing skills, and some days they would meditate with each other, finding a peace they couldn't find anywhere else. However, she wasn't sure why exactly, but she needed to be far away, from everyone and everything.

She headed outside to for some peace…something she wouldn't be able to find for quite a long time. Because it wouldn't let her. Or rather, because she wouldn't let it.

**::.After.::**

"Down, pretty boy," Atton said to Mical. What perfect timing. As always.

Mical looked confused. "I was just going to tell her that the Admiral wanted to speak with her about something very urgent. In fact, the Admiral emphasized and repeated those last two words _twice_."

"Right, right." What a schutta. Always thinking up excuses.

"Is she all right?" the Disciple continued, concerned. "She looked troubled."

Atton glanced sideways at him, then back out at the dancers. "I wouldn't worry about her if I were you. If she needs time alone, let her have it." More quietly he added, "She would have been fine if you hadn't walked over here in the first place."

Mical heard this, and silently took it in before saying, "Well, if you see her, tell her the Admiral wanted to talk to her. Good-bye, Atton." And he walked back across the floor to where he had come from. His blue eyes contained their own sadness within them. Atton felt a brief pang of regret, but it quickly evaporated.

And so he walked away to lean against a column and let the music drown his ears. Demi drove him crazy sometimes. But she was different from anybody he had ever known. She might not have the most curving figure, but she was graceful in her own way. Her face was also the prettiest thing he had ever seen. Truly. With those two un-matched colored twinkling eyes full of mischief, the way her lips quirked in laughter just so, all the little things. Together with her own hidden thoughts she wouldn't let anyone find. Demi was always full of surprises…Surprising strength, surprising wit, surprising charm, and surprising weaknesses. She was the one person he had divulged his whole past to, and she had understood, but now _he_ didn't. And—oh, yes—she was the one thing he couldn't get.

Never giving his mind a moment of rest, he closed his eyes and waited for a miracle to happen.

**::.Later that night.::**

"…and now," Carth said at the podium, "let's have a few words from the Jedi Guardian, Demia Thress!"

Demi sighed profusely, still outside looking at the sky and moon and stars outside for some kind of answer. He had conveniently forgotten to tell her about this little speech she was supposed to give. She didn't want to go. But she didn't have time to stall.

"Demia Thress!" his voice said again. "Demi—"

"I'm here!" Demi finally said, rushing inside and up to the microphone, breathless. Carth stepped back to let her talk. But now that she was here she didn't know what to say. If only she could only talk as smoothly as Revan once could. "Um…"

There were expectant eyes all around the ballroom. Demi cleared her throat, only for an earsplitting feedback to fill the room. "I'm—I'm sorry," she said apologetically, wincing. "I'm honestly not good at speeches," she admitted.

"Go Demi!" she heard Mira yell somewhere in the back.

Demi grinned reluctantly. "Well…" She tucked back a stray strand of light blonde hair. "I was there when Telos was attacked. I was there and watched Malachor V be destroyed. I was there when we fought the Mandalorians, a most worthy and honorable opponent." _That's for you, Mandalore_.

"But I didn't do all this all alone," she continued. "I had the support of many friends and comrades." She swallowed. "Um…hopefully you will too. And…just enjoy the rest of the party, you guys. You deserve it."

There was applause and big cheers, especially from the energetic Mission.

Carth smiled teasingly at her as she exhaled and took a step back. "Always right to the point, aren't you?"

Demi merely smiled and shrugged. She was always like that. Hurrying to finish something just to get to the next task, jumping corners. "We have to get there someday, right?"

Carth shook his head good-naturedly, but Demi caught the weary bags under his eyes. _He must really miss her…_

"Should I leave now?" Demi whispered pointedly, hoping that would comfort him.

But Carth cast a critical eye on her and said, "Not dressed like that, you can't."

Demi realized she couldn't fly off beyond the Outer Rim wearing just a dress. "Right. I'll be back," she promised, tripping over the wire of the microphone in the process, cursing, and then disappearing around the bend.

Carth sighed and wondered how they were going to pull this off.

**::.Outside.::**

Once she was outside, Demi looked around her with an aura of 'living as though this was her last day to live.' She was going to leave. Tramautizing as this day had been, she wanted to remember this.

As she was doing so, she thought she noticed a bit of movement over the hedge. There was a sudden gust of wind and she _thought_ she saw something silvery…but just a breeze later it had disappeared from sight.

Demi was sure she had been hallucinating. She headed upstairs to the room she shared with Mira. Hurriedly, she dumped an assortment of things into a small duffel bag. Some medpacs, food, provisions, her dress, some spare robes…She also hung her double-bladed silver lightsaber on her belt, changed into her brown Jedi robes, tied her short hair into a high ponytail, and immediately felt more like herself.

Then she sat down on the bunk and meditated for a while, just to get all her jumbled thoughts into proportion. Then a thought hit her. She should say goodbye somehow. Reaching for one of Mira's datapads they both often jotted notes on, she started writing.

_Dear Mira_.

She crossed that out.

_Dear Everybody._

Good enough.

_I'm leaving to go and find Revan…and…_

She wasn't good at this, and she knew it. Disgusted with herself, she flung the datapad away, slung her pack over her shoulder, and headed back down.

She ran into Carth right outside the conference room where all of them had planned their actions earlier.

"I'm ready," she said.

"I see that," he said, smiling slightly. "Head through the side door of the room where the party is taking place. Beyond the hedge outside, there should be your ride. HK-47 and a friend of mine will be waiting there for you."

"Who's this friend?" she asked suspiciously.

He just shook his head, tugging at the collar of his uniform, for once not wearing his orange jacket. "I was trying to tell you earlier, but there's no time now. You'll see for yourself. Maybe that's how it should be, anyway."

She sighed. "All right."

"Now," said he, "Good luck." He sounded really sincere. "I would go myself, but…" Shrugging regretfully as he remembered the promise he had given to Elaine, he held out his hand, and Demi shook it.

"Good luck to you, too."

Demi started to leave, then stopped and turned back to Carth. "Hey, don't be too hard on yourself, okay?" She smiled. "It's going to work out. That's the only ending I'm accepting."

Carth smiled. "I wish it were that simple. Take care."

Sharing one last understanding look, Demi headed her way. On the way out, she caught the eye of Bastila, Juhani, Mission, T3, Canderous, and most of the others who knew what she was doing. She nodded at them from the other side of the room, giving a, 'Here goes,' look.

Then she headed outside, quickening her pace. A shadow, still leaning against the marble column, saw her and started.

"The party's that bad, huh? Mind if I join you?"

Demi froze mid-step; she knew that voice well. "Atton," she said exasperatedly. Maybe she should have used her Stealth Field Generator…

"Wait, _no_, look at you. In your Jedi robes, all packed up and ready to go. If I didn't know any better, and hopefully I'm wrong, I'd think you were trying to make a run for it. Care to explain why?"

"Atton," Demi said quietly. "Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"You _are _leaving," Atton said, surprised. "And you were going to try to get away with it without saying good-bye, too. What is this all about, Dem?"

"What has to happen," Demi said. "You know it, don't you? Parties, dresses, music. That life's not for me, Atton. And there's something that I have to do. Far, far away."

"You think I belong here?" Atton demanded. "This life's not for me, either. I've just been putting up with it, waiting until we can get away and start getting shot down by assassin droids or Sith again, because believe it or not, I'm actually starting to miss that."

"Don't say that," said Demi, shaking her head, as Atton started walking up to her. "You don't mean that."

"I really do."

"Don't you get it?" she said desperately. "You can't come with me."

Atton put his hand on her shoulder, tilting her face up to him. Her eyes were wide in the moonlight, reflecting its glow. "Is that right? You're not putting up much of a resistance."

"I'm serious," Demi said. Atton realized, alarmed, that a tear was coursing its way down her pale cheek. "And if you even try following me, I swear you will regret it instantly and—"

She was going berserk now, her whole body quivering. Only now did she notice how scared she was…about what was going to happen. Because she didn't know what was going to happen…to _all_ of them, and that was enough to drive her insane. She didn't want to leave everybody behind…or, the other way to look at it…that _she_ would be the one left behind, flying after Miss Revan Elaine Skylar or whoever she was, with HK, the assassin droid, and some other person she didn't even know…And who knew how long it would take?

"Demi," Atton said, shaking her a little by the shoulders. "It's okay, all right?" He had only seen her like this once, after she had come back from Master Kavar and all the other Jedi Masters. He had never quite forgiven them for making her this way. The Jedi were always the first ones to take blame, at least for him. And _he_ was a Jedi himself now. Maybe that's why he couldn't look in the mirror at himself. He felt like a traitor and deserter to all sides.

"It's not okay," Demi said, sobbing into his shoulder as he held her close. "It's…it's really not."

Atton stroked her hair awkwardly. A warm tension was radiating from her. "You don't have to go, you know," he whispered. "Let the galaxy take care of itself for once."

"I wish I could." Demi pulled away. "But I can't. This is—this is what I do." She half-laughed. "I—I should have checked the full job description before I decided to take it up."

"I'm guessing suggesting you quit isn't exactly going to do the trick."

"No."

"Can I ask where you're going?"

"No."

"Can I not come?"

"No. I mean, _yes_. I mean…Argh! Atton!"

Atton chuckled softly, then held her apart from him, watching her sadly. Demi looked back at him with the same intensity, savoring the feeling of his warm arms around her, protecting her. There was something both of them wanted to do, but neither of them could sum up the courage to do it.

And then, right on cue, this peaceful moment was interrupted by the wind suddenly whirling all around them. The bushes and Ithorian-planted flowers and trees rustled against each other and then there was the unmistakable sound of the Ebon Hawk's engine revving up.

"Isn't that our—" Atton paused, confused. "What's whoever doing with—"

"It's my ride," Demi yelled over the noise. Luckily, the hedge was quite far away from the party, where the music was now blaring just as loudly as the Ebon Hawk's engine, so they couldn't be heard.

"It's your—" Atton was trying to piece this together. "But where are you going?!"

Demi shook her head, reluctantly getting out of his grasp. The Ebon Hawk's ramp spilled down and blinding light from inside the ship made her squint and hold her hand up to block the rays out, just like Korriban's hot sun had made her long ago. Atton had been at her side then, too.

Demi started running up the ramp.

"Demi!" Atton yelled, climbing up after her, grabbing her hands. "What the hell is this all about? Is this about that meeting with the Admiral? Is he making you do his dirty work? Is that it?"

Demi shook her head, too tired to speak, and put her palms up against Atton's, their two gloved hands becoming aligned. A tingling sensation filled her whole body. "You'll understand later," she whispered, trying to prevent her voice from quivering. "I promise."

Then she was up the ramp, the door closing behind her, even as Atton sprinted up to try to prevent it. He slammed his fist against the door just a second too late. "Demi!" he yelled angrily.

But the ship rumbled, and Atton had nothing to do but skid down the ramp and step back. The Ebon Hawk, _his _ship, or at least the one he had flown for almost a full year, lifted off, and soon Atton was nothing but a dot in the landscape that disappeared as well, in just a few seconds.

_I asked for a miracle,_ he said to himself, disbelievingly. _A miracle. Good job, Rand, you did it again._

And he just stood there, looking up at the sky for some type of answer, until the sun crept over the clouds and the moon disappeared from sight. Everything was disappearing. It had only begun.

**::.Aboard the Ebon Hawk.::**

On the other side of the door, Demi laid her hand against it, knowing Atton was no longer there, not physically, but she sat against it, huddled there, wishing he was. Finally, she dropped her hand, knowing she couldn't stay there forever, and got up.

A whole flood of memories hit Demi hard as she stepped inside the familiar ship. The same bunks where she and Mira and Visas had slept, exchanging girl-talk and other nonsense. The same table where she and Bao-Dur had updated their equipment together. The same rooms, the same everything. Except for the people. They were missing.

One exception was the person sitting it the pilot's seat. The first thing Demi noticed was his hair. It was a total shade of white. _Like he wants to age faster or something. I hope it's dyed…_ Apprehensively, Demi stepped forward.

The figure in the chair barely moved a muscle. "So, Demi," the voice said, still keeping his eyes on the stars now swishing past them. "What does it feel like to finally meet your _brother_ after all these years?"

* * *

A/N: Dialogue changes made between Demi and Bao-Dur as well as Demi and Atton (and okay, pretty much everybody). But nothing too drastic. I'm a bit nit-picky, I admit. :) Ttyl! 


	4. 3: Demi, I Am Your Brother

**Chapter 3 of The Fate of the Wandering**: Demi, I Am Your Brother

"**D**id you just—?"

Demi's voice faltered.

"You didn't—?"

She cleared her throat to try again.

"You are—"

"I am your brother, yes." The young man with the white (_white!_) hair took his eyes off the hyperspace route ahead to turn and smile briefly at her. He wore a silver swoop racing uniform. "The name's Leo." He took a hand off the joystick to shake Demi's hand, which she hesitantly shook.

She found her voice. "I'm sorry, uh, _Leo_, but I don't exactly—"

"Remember me?" Leo's voice crackled with laughter. "Know me? Demi, we've hardly met and already you're disowning me."

Demi smiled weakly. "So…lemme get this straight. A long time ago we lived under the same roof? As brother and sister? With parents?" She shook her head. "I find that hard to believe. I don't have any parents. Not that I know of. _They_ disowned _me_." She narrowed her eyes and looked at Leo. "Who are you really?"

Leo shook his head and sighed. "I already told you who I am and yet you refuse to believe it."

"I am not refusing to believe anything! Just give me some _reason_ to believe you and…I'll believe you!"

"That would make it simple, yes." Leo half smiled. "You seem like a person who wants to have life all figured out."

Demi glared. "And is there something wrong with that? You seem like a person who not only wants to have life all figured out, you're a person who is sure they _know_ what it's all about. And as far as I'm concerned, that's worse."

Leo looked back at the stars. "Do you know your last name, Demi?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

"What is it?"

"My last name's 'Thress', but what's that to you?"

"The fact that we both have the same one." He sighed. "It's a long story, Demi. Even I don't know all of it. I was just a kid. Maybe six or seven."

"I'm listening."

"Good. Okay—"

"—But that doesn't mean I'll believe every word that comes out of your mouth."

"You better start believing Demi, 'cause this is the plain truth right here."

"Tell me."

"That's what I was going to do." Leo took a deep breath. "Okay. We were both born in a cabin in Dxun. I was born a year before you."

"Show off," Demi muttered under her breath. Then she realized something. "I went to Dxun! Right before our visit to Onderon. And I didn't see any cabin."

Leo rolled his eyes, knowing this was going to take a while. "That's because it was _burned_ down. Let me finish, will you?" He sighed. "Okay, so anyway, that's where we were born. Now, our parents, apparently, had some enemies. Run-ins with the Sith that go way back."

"Let me guess," said Demi. "The Sith were the ones that supposedly burned our home down?"

"Yes."

"Then why are we still alive?"

"Because we were able to escape. Our father died back in Dxun. Our mother wasn't the best fighter and we were too young to be any help. We were outnumbered. And then there were the Mandalorians arriving on Dxun. We had to get out. As our father died back in our house, our mother…her name was Marian—grabbed our hands and sped us out of the fire and into the forest, where we caught a shuttle."

Demi quieted. "I think I remember a fire." _From my dreams…_ They had started haunting her every night ever since they had left Malachor V.

Leo nodded. "I just remember the vague outlines. And from what Marian told me when I last saw her. She realized, eventually, as we got on the shuttle, or maybe even as we were running through the woods that she couldn't support us."

Demi raised a hand to stop him. "Wait. Earlier on you talked about Marian, our mother or whoever, in past tense. What was that all about? She's not—?"

Leo nodded again. "I'm afraid she is dead. I received a hologram. But more on that later.

"She knew our interests by heart. I had shown interest in swoop racing toys, and so I presume she thought to hand me over to some swoop racing team, knowing by that skill that would be how I would build my future. And that's what happened to me.

"But you, sister, were different. You, like our mother was, are Force Sensitive. She knew she had to hand you over to the Jedi on Dantooine, something she herself had never found the courage to do for herself."

"Why is it that I don't remember any of this?"

"You were very young. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't remember. However, you might have brief flashes of memory. We have much to talk about."

Demi leaned back in her co-pilot's seat. "So all this time I used to have a real home, real parents, and real family?" She turned to look at Leo. "All this time?" she repeated.

Leo nodded. "For better or for worse." And he smiled. "But you're probably very tired right now; you've just gotten back from a party. Why don't you go to bed?"

"All right." Demi stood up reluctantly, then wavered awkwardly, wondering if she should hug Leo or something now that she had just found her last remaining kin. "You—you sure you can fly that thing?" was all she could think of to say.

"Yup," he said reassuringly. "I've had years of piloting swoop race bikes and whatnot to prove it. Now _go_ get some rest," he prodded. "It'll take a few hours till we reach Deralia."

So Demi trudged back toward the dormitories, to the room she had shared with Visas and Mira. She flopped down and struggled to keep her eyes open, to brood this through. But nature was kind enough to give her a break, and so, slowly, her eyes faltered and closed to her first peaceful sleep in years.

::.**Coruscant, the next morning**.:: 

"Admiral," said Ian Pace from the door. "You have a visitor. Shall I send him in?"

Carth Onasi was standing at his window overlooking the city of Coruscant, his thoughts wavering. He hardly reacted, still not used to being called Admiral, just like Saul Karath had once been called. Carth waved his hand without turning. "Not now, Ian."

Ian Pace tapped his foot on the floor, his dark, curly hair bouncing, his yellow eyes glinting. He was tall and lanky, and wore dark clothes. He was somewhat of Carth's secretary, and kept him updated and organized. "I'm sorry, sir, but the visitor says it's extremely urgent."

Carth Onasi finally turned around. "Who is it?"

"Atton Rand, sir. And he says if you don't open up this door immediately someone could get hurt. Should I send him away, sir?"

Carth sighed. "No, let Rand in. And, if you would Ian, you can just call me Carth. No more of this 'sir' business, from here on out, okay Pace?"

"Yes, sir—I mean, of course—er, Carth."

Ian hastily withdrew.

In turn, a figure in a brown vest appeared through the door, although his lightsaber was still at his side.

"Atton," said Carth smiling wryly, walking back to his desk and holding out his hand. "How are you doing?"

But Atton was not in a mood for small talk. "Don't you 'How are you doing' me!" he exclaimed angrily. "I want to know, Admiral, how can you _live_ with yourself?!"

Carth's dropped his hand, but his eyes showed genuine confusion. "What are you talking about, Atton?"

"I'm talking," Atton said loudly, "about _Demi!_ You told her to fly out of this whole fracking solar system and find Revan! You know how hard she takes her duty, don't you? So you just _knew_ she would listen and do it! And now we've lost her too! Are you going to let everybody just fly out of your life, Carth? Are we going to have to send somebody after Demi now? Let somebody else do your work for you?!"

Carth slammed his hand down on the table, his temper suddenly awakened. "I didn't _want_ Elaine to go, dammit! I especially didn't want myself to stay, so get that out of your head." He sighed and sat down, telling himself to calm down. He continued more quietly. "She made me promise, Atton. She made me promise to protect the Republic; back here. And that's why I'm sitting at this desk. That's why things are how they are. Because of a _promise_."

There was silence for a few moments.

"So that's it then," said Atton quietly. "You're just going to let them both go out into some unknown darkness? You're content with waiting here in your damn office, while maybe, somewhere out there, they're hanging onto life by a thread? How many years has it been, Carth? Or do I have to count for you?"

It took everything Carth had to not take a swing at Atton right then and there. Atton had no idea how hard his part of the bargain was. Waiting. It's what soldiers so often had to do. It was the part he hated most, but it was necessary. And he had the Telos Restoration project to run, the Republic to take care of. Gritting his teeth, he said, "Which question do you expect me to answer first?"

"Just this one. Are you honestly just going to stand by and let them _die_ out there?"

Carth sighed. "They're not exactly helpless, Atton. We're talking about two very capable Jedi here."

"That's not the point!" Atton yelled. "Look, I knew Revan. And I know exactly what you see in her."

"Do you?" said Carth sharply. "You may have known her during the Wars, but you don't know her like I do."

"You're probably right." Atton's voice became quiet, almost tender. "But I do know Demi. And if you think I'm just going to stand by and wait on the sidelines for Force knows how long, you're wrong."

Carth shook his head, but couldn't think of anything else to say.

"And let me tell you something else, Onasi." Atton moved towards the door. "Here's where you and I are different. You promised to protect the Republic, but for some reason, I just can't see how sitting back here, filing paperwork, is going to help them in any way. So you can make all the promises you want. Me? I'm going to keep them."

Carth didn't have a chance to ask what exactly had Atton promised to do, because he would have been talking to an empty room.

* * *

A/N: A chapter made up of dialogue. If anyone's curious, the scene between Carth and Atton was fleshed out a little, and the order of the scenes was reversed, because I realized the time that Demi and Leo talked had actually happened before the conversation in Carth's office. Thank you to Graceful5301 for giving me her opinion on the latter. Kudos! 


	5. 4: Gizkas, Stowaways, & Crashes, Oh My!

**Chapter 4 of the Fate of the Wandering**: Gizkas, Stowaways, and Crashes, Oh My!

**I**t was early the next morning when Demi woke up. It seemed to her that she was an expert at sleeping late and waking up early…most of the time. Her green eye was still closed but her blue eye was open, taking in her surroundings, her head still pressed into her pillow. One thought came to her: _Where am I?_

This was followed by a resounding banging from what sounded like the engine room, and Demi suddenly felt wide awake. So it hadn't been a dream like so many other things seemed to be. This was a reality. She had family.

She looked down and realized that she had forgotten to change the other night. But whatever. She didn't really feel the need to impress Leo. He was just her brother after all. But she washed her face and hair anyway, just so he wouldn't think her the secret slob she really was.

It was ten minutes later when she made her way to where the loud noises were coming from.

"Hey _bang_ Demi _bang_!" yelled Leo over the noise of the engine, which was now emitting sputtering hissy noises. He was leaning over the engine, holding a hydrospanner and attempting to fix some of the circuitry.

"What's going _hiss…_ on?" Demi yelled back, covering her ears.

"Speculation: It appears to me that this unworthy, out-dated piece of machinery is malfunctioning, Master," said a toneless voice.

"HK." Demi said this so simply and without any emotion either. She had forgotten he was to accompany her on this trip.

"He's been in my way all morning," said Leo over the noise. Demi noted that Leo also had the same mis-matched colored eyes she had. "I believe he even offered to shoot his blaster rifle at the hyperdrive, as though that would help it run again." He laughed softly. "You'd think that being in a swoop racing squad for most of my life would enable me to fix this piece of junk, but life has its surprises."

"Apparently." Demi paused. "It's not dangerous though, is it?"

Leo shook his head. "It's not an emergency, not as far as I can tell, but then again, my expertise mostly lies within swoop racing bikes."

"Can I ask you a question?" Demi inquired.

Leo pointed to his ear and ushered her out of the engine room, so the loud sputterings were muted a little. "We can talk better out here. What do you want to know, Demi?"

"Well…" Demi smiled, abashed. "I was just curious. Is your hair really white? Or is it dyed? I hear dye is a kind of expensive trading item only used for special cases. So what's up with the hair?"

Leo actually laughed. "It's natural, unfortunately. Always been like this. Once I get this thing fixed, I'll finish that story I was telling you last night. The _Ebon Hawk_ must have had quite a few crashes in its prime. Meanwhile, the ship's on auto-pilot. Do you think you can fly this thing manually for me till I get back to the cockpit? Maybe that'll help the circuits a notch if they don't have to worry about driving around themselves. See, it is my belief that all machinery cannot function with too much stress on their minds, just like humans."

Demi digested this and HK-47, who had followed them into the hall, said something like, "Correction: Stress is the loss of my most prized possession." He fingered his rifle. "Without it, I cannot function." But Demi couldn't be sure as the engine was making weird noises again.

"But I highly doubt I can pilot," Demi protested. "I mean, I'd really like to help, piloting if necessary, but only if you're willing to have a very short life span." She smiled. "I'm giving you fair warning."

"Well, I appreciate that. But I've heard you're very capable, and you look it. I trust you. You'll never know until you try, right?"

Demi sighed. "You're so right. How can you always be so right? I hate it when you're right."

But Leo, apparently, did not hear this, and just beckoned her toward the cockpit. "I'll be there shortly, I promise."

_More promises…_Demi thought. She recalled the day when Atton had found her, unconscious, after the deaths of the three Jedi Masters, including her own long before teacher, Master Kavar. Atton had sworn to protect her no matter what. And, unknown to her, it was that same promise that bound him to come after her now.

On the way back to the cockpit, she passed the gun turret, enclosed in a little room overlooking space that she had always gone out to…it was her own space, no one else's; or so she thought. Demi knew she should head over to the front of the ship and pilot, but this was sort of a routine for her. She was sure it wouldn't have a disastrous result, if delayed by just a few seconds. She sat down, legs folded underneath her, and meditated for a while. It seemed easier to do so here, even if it was rather cramped.

Demi closed her eyes and in doing that, closed out the surrounding sounds around her. She felt calm again, in control. It was here, lost in a zone that seemed to go on and on and on, that a loud _ribbit _reberverated around.

"What—?"

Demi opened her eyes and looked around. In an overhead compartment above her, she found two _gizkas_. They were located in a cardboard box with a little bit of remains of something that looked like grain scattered inside it. A little note was taped behind them. It read in slanted cursive writing:

_The one with the big orange spot on his back is Kalam, the one with green stripes on her tail is Naver. For the old friendship that was lost. P.S. Stay away from gizka poison._

Astounded, Demi assumed that Revan had saved these two. Mission had told Demi later during the meeting about how some gizka had mysteriously arrived in a crate onboard and that Revan, or Elaine, had had to sell them to a person looking for exotic species on Manaan.

But how did they get here? Demi had never seen them here before, and she should have, since she had been in this gun turret before too many times to count. And what was the grain-like thing? Did gizka eat it?

Sure enough, Kalam, the hungry one with the orange spot on its back, bent down and with a quick, pink tongue, some of the 'food' was gone in a flash. Kalam and Naver bounced happily inside their cardboard box.

Shaking her head, but not pushing down the smile that had crept upon her face, Demi continued on her way to the cockpit. That was another mystery of the _Ebon Hawk, _she thought. Some strange part of its past and rich history that she found a rich curiosity for. Perhaps that curiosity would later be answered. But at the moment, she had a job to do.

She was almost to the cockpit when she was faced with yet another interruption. For another little piece of machinery was wheeling toward her now.

"T3!" Demi cried, and this time it was a cry of enthusiasm and surprise, for T3-M4 had been one of the first of her old crew she had met. "You little trash compacter! Did you stow away?"

She knew the answer before she even asked it. She remembered that on her way to the _Ebon Hawk_ she had seen something silvery glinting in the moonlight; T3 must have gotten on board as she was talking to Atton. Demi wondered if T3 had his own reasons for coming along.

But then, suddenly there was a strange whirring sound, and the sound of something exploding in the back of the ship. The _Ebon Hawk_ gave a violent shudder, the floor vibrating beneath Demi's feet.

"Leo?" she called fearfully.

And then they were all plunging downward.

* * *

A/N: The next chapter: Of old friends and new friends and a not-so-graceful arrival in Deralia… 


	6. 5: That Swirling Vortex

**Chapter 5 of the Fate of the Wandering**: That Swirling Vortex

"**M**ars," said the fair-haired lady to the person next to her. They were high up in the tower that watched ships land or take-off. But this new arrival wasn't really doing either. She watched with growing alarm as the ship did a frightening sort of whirl through the air, like a vortex gathering speed. She stood up and clutched the edge of her desk.

"_Mars!"_ she yelled again. "Look!"

Mars Wood, who had fought alongside Dane in the Mandalorian Wars was busy practicing with one of his staffs. This former soldier, with brown hair and a slightly short stature, had never really gotten over the day when Atton had bested him in a practice fight. "What now, Dane?"

Dane Ulgo, the late Trask Ulgo's sister, hurriedly pointed out the window. Smoke trailed through the air, and a burning fire was lit at the tail of the ship.

Mars took one look and whistled long and low. "This can't be good."

**::.Back in Coruscant.::**

The remaining former crews of the _Ebon Hawk_ would be staying in Coruscant for the next month, before going back to where they had earlier spent their time and continuing whatever they had each been working on.

Bastila and Juhani would help in the effort to rebuild Dantooine. Canderous Ordo would venture around to regather all of his Mandalorian clan. Mission would head to Telos to start a future—a future better than her brother would bring. And Zaalbar would go back to Kashyyyk and rule with Bacca's Blade at his side. Jolee had said he'd retire in some planet, although exactly which one was unsure. But none of them were really having the relaxing vacation together they had bargained for.

"What is it with people disappearing and having all these adventures without me?" Mission complained an hour after she had learned about Atton's sudden disappearance. They were seated in the same conference room over a game of pazaak and cups of caffa. "I don't…I don't like this feeling of being left behind." She was thinking of Griff, and how he had left her long ago on Taris, as she said this.

"You're not alone in that feeling," Mira said, wondering who had left the half-written message in her datapad. "And don't forget about T3. The little droid stowed away, apparently. Couldn't stand being here, I guess."

"I prove my point." Mission sighed. "Can someone remind me again why Demi only went on this mission with some psycho assassin droid?! I know I would be useful in this search for Elaine. Many of us would. We're all qualified Sith Lord defeaters, if there's such a thing. So why are we still here?"

Mission looked inquiringly at Zaalbar who in turn looked at Jolee who followed the gaze down the table to Carth.

The poor guy was swallowing down cups of caffa as though to drown away all his sorrows and frustrations. He ran his hands through his tousled brown hair. "Look, I know what you're thinking, but I didn't want to send a whole parade after her. That might gather unwanted attention and make us too much of a target for whoever this new enemy is.

"And it wasn't just HK with her. I know not all of you trust him, and I have to say I didn't really get the best first impression either when he held a gun to my head and threatened to blow my brains out merely because he felt like it. Someone needed to fly the ship, so her brother, Leo, who some of you remember, is accompanying her now. They have just met. I'm sure with HK, Demi, and Leo all combined, they would make a worthy team. And even more so, with T3 in the picture. But try to understand. If we _all_ went into the Unknown Regions…and all _died_…"

"So you are saying it is not of a great loss if Demi, Leo, HK-47, and T3-M4 all die?" said Visas, with a surprising coldness in her manner.

"No!" Carth sighed. "No. But I do know them to be extremely capable. Demi told me herself, before she left for Malachor, that she knows it is her part to go after Elaine. And about her brother…I thought it was time that they finally meet. HK is there for, well, defense and comic relief." He smiled, almost pleadingly. "Try to understand," he said again, desperately. "I know Elaine wouldn't have liked it if _all_ of us went after her. We all have our duties here. You know that. And in our way, what we are doing to help this galaxy echoes back to her, hopefully in a good way."

"_Hopefully,"_ muttered Canderous under his breath.

"We are all very worried," said Mical with genuine concern in his eyes.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," said Carth, almost welcoming the distraction.

It was Ian Pace again. "Sir, I hate to bother you, but there has been quite a commotion downstairs."

"What do you mean?" asked Bastila. "I felt a sort of disturbance myself, but couldn't quite clarify what it was."

"Well…" Ian shuffled around. "There are a group of swoop racers who declare that Leo Thress has left some very huge debts back in their planet."

"What?" Carth found it hard to believe good-natured Leo would belong to this bold statement.

"I believe they tracked him down to Coruscant, sir."

"Apparently…" Carth rubbed his recently-shaved chin in puzzlement. He looked up. "You'll have to inform them, Ian, that Leo is no longer here. But please send them on up. I'd like to find out what this is about."

Ian nodded and proceeded to turn back to the door.

"—Oh, and Ian?"

Ian stopped. "Yes, sir?"

"Please stop calling me sir. It makes me sound old." Carth half-smiled. "That will be all, Ian."

"Yes….Admiral."

Carth shook his head. But it was good enough.

**::.Back in Deralia.::**

Dane Ulgo stood outside the kolto tank watching a seemingly lifeless figure floating inside it. She sighed and shook her head. "This really doesn't look good, Mars. And there were two of them. And that was one very violent looking crash…"

"You think?" said Mars, raising his eyebrows. He sighed. "Well, at least they're all in one piece. That's a miracle. I have no clue how they survived with only minor scratches and injuries. But this isn't going to look good on our status reports. One ship badly damaged, two people knocked unconscious…probably almost dead, not responding to the Code, their ship holding up traffic and busting our schedule…"

"Oh, forget about the status reports, Mars!" said Dane angrily. She couldn't believe how insensitive he could be at times. "I just don't want them to die." She sighed. "Nobody deserves to die like that." She was thinking about Trask. She cleared her throat. "Any news or identification of who these people were? What their ship is? Are you absolutely sure that no one else was onboard?"

"Give me a minute, would ya," groaned Mars, jamming at the console as fast as he could. "Well…the ship was pretty much too butchered up to make up most of it. The people down there said they found some droid parts cut in half down there, but with some heavy maintenance, they should be all right. I'm pretty sure that if anybody else was on that ship and haven't been uncovered by now, they're probably not going to make it."

What Mars didn't see was two very familiar looking gizkas, absolutely unscathed, hopping down the hall as though without an absolute care in the world.

**::.Back in Coruscant.::**

"_Griff!"_ exclaimed Mission, looking up as her brother and a few other tough looking twi'leks behind him entered the conference room.

But to her surprise, Griff, a blue twi'lek as well, completely ignored her and turned to Carth. Mission was believably hurt; she had left Tatooine with nothing but a feeling that their own paths would certainly go down different ways, but he _was_ her brother, and she still cared about him. The cold manner in which he was now acting cut down Mission deep inside. Mission stepped back and tilted her head to the side to get a better look at him.

Griff looked—if possible—sincere, almost serious, and there was no more eager or carefree manner in the way he moved or talked. Mission had thought all these years that it was worse having an older brother who didn't act like one at all, and had always yearned for what she thought was the perfect role model brother. But now what she really thought was worse was having an older brother who did nothing but act like one.

And he called Carth, 'sir' which he certainly hadn't done last time around.

_Maybe he and Ian Pace should start a club,_ Carth thought resignedly.

"Sir," said Griff. "This is absolutely a private matter, and we'd rather speak to you in private, in another room, about this. We don't want any unwelcome or unworthy ears listening in on our conversation."

At this, Mission pushed her chair back. "Oh, that won't be a problem, Griff. We were just leaving. Weren't we?"

She pulled at Zaalbar's elbow, who half-shrugged and followed her out the door. The others soon followed. Griff looked after her with a blank gaze, then turned back to Carth and shook his head. "Kids these days," was all he said.

The door closed shut behind Bao Dur and Visas, the last ones out the room, but Mission had heard Griff's last words.

"I am going to murder him in his sleep," she declared passionately, and stormed down the hall.

**::.Back in Deralia.::**

_So you're going to leave without so much as a glass slipper?_

_I promised to go after her, whoever she is, help her, and bring her back, or at least let him know she was safe. _

_You don't always have to do things for other people, you know._

_Oh, but I do. I don't really have a choice. It's what I do._

Demi suddenly awoke, both her green eye and blue eye opening at the same time.

For one second she felt like she was in perfect bliss, not having to worry about who she was or where she was or what she was doing. The next second the pain caught up with her and it felt like she was choking, dizzy, yet feeling numb in every part of her body. She closed her eyes and struggled with this pain for as long as she could. That didn't take long. She brought her fist forward, tried to kick, and finally heard the sound of shattering glass. She flew forward, and hit the ground, falling on her side.

She lay there for a few seconds, not really even half-awake yet. She breathed deeply. Finally, she re-opened her eyes and saw a whole row of kolto tanks lined against the wall.

"Well," she murmured, her voice cracking with the lack of real nourishment and water in such a long time, "this looks awfully familiar."

By that, she of course was referring to the time when she had woken up at the Medical Bay on Peragus. Last time though, she had heard Kreia's voice in her head. This time, however, she was almost certain she had heard someone else's.

She felt around her body for any scars, and discovered, aside from deep weariness and a scar on her right cheek, she seemed to be okay. She closed her eyes again to try to remember what had happened. Oh yes…the crash. She remembered being tossed around, the flashing lights, the roaring in her ears…She shook her head and tried to clear it.

When she looked up she found herself looking at Leo. He was still in his kolto tank, and appeared to be unconscious. His white hair drifted in the water, head facing down, giving him the quality of an underwater statue etched in stone. His arms and legs, visible because he was wearing a jump suit instead of his long-sleeved swoop racing uniform, possessed hard, compact muscles Demi had not seen before. _He has to have been doing something other than swoop racing to get muscles like that…I wonder what else he has been doing these past years?_

Demi closed her eyes, tried to relax, and tried to reach inside her brother's mind to wake him up.

_Leo_, she said desperately. _Leo…Leo, wake up before I make you!_

But he wouldn't budge. He must have had quite a violent toss in that engine room while the Ebon Hawk was crashing. Demi felt extremely guilty…She had been supposed to go and pilot the ship, to supposedly make it easier for the Hawk, but she had lingered around, and this was the result. Looking at his form just floating around, Demi suddenly feared for his life.

She tried to concentrate harder and attempted to find something inside his mind she could trigger to wake him up. This was delicate business that she herself did not like, especially when somebody else was doing it on her, but this was important. She needed him now.

It was hard to get through the glass of the kolto tank, as if something was trying to propel her away, trying to tell her that this was not a good idea. But Demi ignored that and got in. She was trying to find a tender spot in his thoughts, something that, when prodded, would awake him instantly. Finally she found a tender strand, a memory hidden in the corner and burning with a curious fire. Demi imagined a soft and quick current traveling through her throughts and into her brother's brain…

But something was wrong.

Instead of forcing him awake, she felt like she was being pulled into a dream, an old memory of Leo's. An image swam before her eyes.

_A door softly creaking open. Two figures in a room. Demi, in Leo's shoes, was outside this scene, watching. _

"_Are you going to the race the day after tomorrow?" one of the figures asked._

_The other shook his head. "Nope; I'm taking a flight out of Tatooine tomorrow to find some more equipment. That white-haired guy didn't help us at all, stealing things like that."_

_The other shifted uncertainly. "Maybe it was an accident."_

_The other twi'lek shook his head, and a soft smile played on his lips as if remembering someone saying this next line so frequently: "Bantha poo-doo. Listen. I am _gone_ tomorrow and that's final."_

"_Whatever you say, Griff."_

"_What about you? Is it ready?"_

_But then, the door creaked open a little, and both figures in the room turned at the noise. And the person at the door ran._

Demi sat on the floor, blinking, head in hands. "Oh, I have a headache," she groaned. She knew she probably shouldn't have tried to wake him up. Leo probably was not even revived enough yet to leave the tank. Nevertheless, Demi felt cold and dizzy. She lay her head back on the floor, telling herself it was just for a little while, and fell asleep.

Sometime later while Demi was unconscious on the floor, a figure with soft footsteps came over and brought her away.

**::.Later.::**

Demi awoke to the smell of some sort of tea brewing, and some heavy blankets comforting her. For a moment, it felt like she was back in Dxun, in their old home Leo had told her about. It felt wonderful. But then the feeling was replaced with warning—like something bad would happen soon. But only for a moment. After that moment, she forgot all about it.

"Ah, you're awake!" said a cheerful voice. "You had me worried there. I guess you're much stronger than you look. Actually, you've just proved to be stronger than any other normal person I know. I thought for sure, since you had gotten out of the kolto tank prematurely, that you were a goner."

_Very optimistic,_ Demi half thought in her drowsy state. She squinted up at the shape looming above her…a kind face. "Where am I?" she asked groggily.

"You're safe; that's all that matters. And I'm Dane. Dane Ulgo. Pleased to meet you, even under these strange circumstances." Dane Ulgo held out her hand, and Demi shook it weakly, still confused.

"Where's Leo?"

Dane just looked at her for a moment. "Oh! That white-haired guy who crash-landed in with you? Still reviving, apparently, obediently in his kolto tank, unlike you," said Dane, half smiling. "When I found you among broken glass, unconscious, you had me going for a while. For now though, I'll make you a cup of white chai, while we wait for you and Leo to get better. All you have to do now is rest. We'll talk later."

Demi thought that sounded like the best plan she had ever heard. She nodded, or at least thought she did. Before she knew what was happening, she had drifted off to sleep again.

Outside Dane's house, in the dark, a figure knelt beside a tree and listened to the conversation. "This is the right place," he said into his holoradio, and lighted his lightsaber.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for what I did to the Ebon Hawk…lol…Also, the characters Mars and Dane are from my story, 'To Be An Echani,' which is also uploaded here. After Deralia, because of certain events, you'll get to learn more about them and their past with Atton. 


	7. 6: Code & Confusion

**Chapter 6 of the Fate of the Wandering:** Code & Confusion

Atton took a sip of his juma juice, testing it out. It was lacking the richness, the tang you get after one sip. This juma juice tasted like…stale lemonade with fizz. Hmm. Perhaps the quality of juma juice got worse the farther you got away from your own galaxy…

Atton was en route to Deralia, not even that far out into the galaxy yet, and already he was feeling depressed. Maybe he was lonely. Wait. Atton? Lonely? …_Nah._ Out of all the people in the world, it should be _he_ who was the most used to working alone.

Sighing, he took another sip of his supposed 'juma' juice, winced, and put it back down. There was nothing very pleasing about this cantina so far away from civilization. It was dark here, and the music gave him a headache instead of the usual fiery, hyped up feeling. Nobody was even playing pazaak, which to him, was a crime. Everyone stopping here were just travelers always heading to some other destination, eager to get out, never staying. Maybe there was something keeping them away. Atton didn't know.

"Hey, bartender," he called, slapping ten credits on the counter. "Give me anything other than your juma juice; something strong."

The bartender, a twi'lek who was running out of both supplies and money, nodded. He reached for a new glass ('new,' meaning an old, dusty glass wiped with what resembled an old, musty towel), when another customer patted him on the shoulder, and slid what felt like definitely more than 200 credits in his pocket.

"Give the young man his drink," he said, "with _this_." Some sort of powder in a packet was placed in his hand. Poison, he realized. Again. The bartender then sensed what felt like a blaster at his back. Fingers trembling, the bartender nodded, meekly fumbled with the glass in his hands, and dropped and broke it, the glass shattering at his feet.

"Fool," the dark figure hissed before moving away. "I'll be watching. And hurry up."

_Well, that was polite,_ the bartender thought, but hurried to make the drink. He could still feel the cold barrel of the gun against his back, and didn't really like the feeling.

The drink was ready. The bartender placed it in front of Atton, the powder already dissolved within it.

"Thanks," said Atton, taking a whiff. Well, at least it smelled better than the juma. In fact, this new drink didn't smell like anything at all. Then Atton froze. And blinked. _Uh-oh,_ he thought, looking down at his glass. He had used a drug like this before, long ago, to knock out his victims for a few hours. He couldn't believe the irony of it; now it was being used on _himself_.

Atton pretended to be warming his drink in his hands while searching around the room. His eyes swiftly took in his surroundings without seeming to move at all…He was looking for someone watching _him_.

And he found one: A dark, solitary, hooded figure in the corner, faced towards him. Before he could do anything though, _another_ person stepped behind him.

"Don't move, don't react," said the voice. Atton felt a chill down his spine. Before he could do anything, he found two lightsabers crossed at his throat. Atton thought about Force-pushing this new enemy back.

"If you do that," hissed the mysterious person, "These two lightsabers will slice through your neck and I wouldn't be hurt at all. _You_ would, however. Now, just cooperate, and you won't get hurt."

"Yeah, and I'm Darth Traya," Atton said dryly.

The person ignored him. "Get up," he commanded, and Atton obeyed. The two lightsabers were now at his back instead. Atton would have put up resistance right then, but he then saw four more of those figures, all carrying lightsabers too, step from around the corner. Atton had not had a wink of sleep in seventy-two hours and found, reluctantly, that he didn't have the strength to put up with all of this. Not after all that had happened.

Nobody in the cantina seemed to notice what was going on, and he noted this with great disdain. But he was wrong. There was one person, the hooded figure in the corner, who had been watching it all. This person activated a stealth field generator, and disappeared, following the paths of Atton and his captors. A wisp of white hair was barely visible as the shadow whizzed past.

**::.In Coruscant.::**

"Ow!" Mission hissed. "Big Z, watch where you step. I don't know if you know it yet, but you have _really_ huge feet, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't go trampling on me like everyone else."

Zaalbar, a strong Wookiee and Mission's best buddy, was very protective of her. He knew she was really talking about Griff, so he tried not to let her comment bother him. Not that Griff had big feet, although that might have been a possibility, but of how Griff was treating her.

When Griff had come to Coruscant saying he had something urgent to say to Carth, he had completely ignored her, was _not_ acting like himself, and the worse travesty was that he had called Mission a 'kid,' something he knew she hated. That had been the last straw.

But Mission had been sly too. Before she had left the room, she had pinned a listening device under the table and they had heard some of the conversation between Griff and his cronies and Carth. Sometimes the connection had faded out, so the most they could hear was:

"We had made a deal… didn't divulge the last important step like promised…_stole_ one of our most important vials…of the utmost urgency that we find him…"

Mission really couldn't make sense of it. She figured it had something to do with one of Griff's black dealings again (some things just never change), and of how Leo had not held his part of the bargain or something similar to that. But that wasn't an excuse for Griff to act so cold to his sister!

Sighing, Mission finally entered the hall where Bao-Dur, Visas, and Mira were crowded around the table over something. Mission hadn't known the '2nd generation' crew from the Ebon Hawk (as she called them) too well, but she found out that some of them were pretty nifty at pazaak, and after many games together over cups of caffa, she had learned a little more about them. She envied Canderous, or 'Mandalore,' as these newcomers called him. Even T3 and—Force forbid—HK. They had been part of both journeys, and probably knew them better than she did. _But that doesn't really matter,_ she told herself. _I can catch up._

"Mission, Zaalbar," said Bao-Dur, ushering them over. "Take a look at this."

Mission had instantly liked Bao-Dur, maybe because of his genuine friendliness, or maybe it was because of his shared interest with gadgets, or probably because sometimes, some people were as prejudiced against him as much as they were to Mission and Big Z, just because they were of different races.

"What's up?" she asked, taking the chair Visas offered her.

Mira pointed at a weird looking, handheld deice on the table, from which an incessant red light was blinking. "Apparently, this is some kind of a tracking device. At least, that's what Bao says."

Mission jumped up. "So you know where Demi and HK are now?"

_And Leo and T3_, added Zaalbar. He was not one to forget people.

"Not exactly," said Bao-Dur, in his usual mellow voice. "I put the other part of this tracking device on T3 a long time ago because he always liked to wander around and I wouldn't be able to find him. His location should pop up on that screen," he pointed at one, a graph full of lines and planets, "but he isn't showing up."

"Maybe that's because they're already too far out into the solar system," suggested Mission.

"But they would be in Deralia right now," said Visas softly, "and Deralia is on this map."

They all sat in silence, wondering what had happened to their companions and their robotic friends.

**::.In Deralia.::**

It was morning in Coruscant, however in Deralia it was nighttime. When Demi woke up, it took her a moment to pinpoint exactly where she was and what had happened, and when it all came flooding back she fell back onto her pillow with a groan.

When she was more awake, she pushed back the blankets, stretched, and went to the window to see the scenery of Deralia, Elaine's birthplace, during the night.

There were _two_ full moons nestled in the night sky, and Demi could vaguely see the outlines of hills in the background, and hear waves crashing against the cliffs.

"Pretty, isn't it?" said Dane, coming up beside Demi. "After fighting in the Mandalorian Wars and all, I decided I wanted some peace and quiet, and came here." She gestured at her cabin, a modest but cozy place with a rounded glass ceiling, like a little dome, that displayed the stars of the night sky.

"I can relate," Demi said quietly, looking up and thinking how peaceful it felt. She wondered how such a peaceful place could have produced such an evil Sith Lord…but then she remembered that Revan, or Elaine, had changed. She just had to have faith.

Then duty hit her. "I can't believe I almost forgot!" she exclaimed. "How are Leo and HK and T3? What happened?"

"Leo, I think, is still back at the center reviving in his kolto tank, but the two droids got some heavy damage from the crash. I think we can fix them up, though. We do have some of the best droid repairing workshops around. Meanwhile we'll just have to wait."

"I don't much like waiting," admitted Demi, "but I guess it's the only thing we can do."

They were silent for a few minutes.

"Hey, Dane," said Demi finally. "Thanks for, you know, taking me here and taking care of me personally. You didn't have to, so thanks. It's much better than being in a kolto tank, that's for sure."

Dane smiled back, but turned to look out the window. "I only wish I could have been there for Trask," she muttered to herself. Then she jumped. "Oh, I just remembered. I have to teach you about the Code."

"The Code?" asked Demi, puzzled. She pushed back a stray of white-blondish hair from her cheek. "What code?"

"Well," said Dane, "there's been some strange goings on in the galaxy, if you haven't noticed. People are disappearing, and coming back all changed and strange, not like their usual selves, like they're under a spell. This has only happened a few times, but enough for some people to get suspicious, especially as these disappearances were something we didn't really understand or know the cause for.

"Turns out there's this company behind it all, but I'll tell you more about that later. Anyway," Dane continued, "you broke the Code when you crash landed here, as you weren't able to respond to our watchtower's message, 'cause well, you _weren't_ at that current moment, and understandably, none of us blame you. You were excused, but I was instructed by my boss to relate the Code to you, just so you don't get into any further trouble here when you are all healed and ready to explore Deralia."

Demi nodded, listening intently.

"Where was I?" murmured Dane. "Oh, yes. Deralia is made up of small communities, but we all have strong moral ties to the family and community, and to duty and obligation. And here, we don't want to betray the trust given to us, so before we talk or communicate with anyone here, we always do the Code. We want to make sure that whoever we're talking to isn't with that weird company who kidnaps people and…." Her voice trailed off.

"Anyway, it just makes us feel more secure. We call it the 'Acquaintance Code' here. Every citizen or visitor here, after doing a thorough background check on that person, receives a silver bracelet made of links. Each link contains a number or letter on it, as well as the Deralia emblem." Dane pulled up her sleeve to show a shiny, silver bracelet with D26041 engraved on it. "These numbers are entered in on Deralia's databases, so any faulty people trying to pass for an authentic Deralia-safe citizen, would be recognized immediately by security in the border, and dealt with accordingly."

Dane shrugged. "It's useful for security, you see, for many things, not just kidnappers. You can enter their code anywhere on our databases and do a thorough background check on that person, say if you want to use them as a babysitter for your child, or whatever. It's convenient."

Demi shuddered. She didn't like having people knowing so much about her like that, just at a touch of the button.

"And so," said Dane with a flourish, "what it all comes down to is the fact that I need to get you sized up for your own linked bracelet, but first I need to ask you some questions."

Demi tensed.

"The first question, what is your purpose in your visit to Deralia? Are you visiting somebody? Touring around?"

"Um…well…It's complicated…" Demi was looking around for some clever words on her tongue, but was failing rapidly, and so was almost relieved when a resounding knock came on the door.

Dane stood up. "Who can be visiting so late at night? Don't they have any manners?" She swept past Demi to look through the peephole, then immediately swung the door open. A figure fell on the carpet before her. "Oh my God," Dane said. Her voice was overwhelmingly anxious, alarmed, and scared. "_Mars!_" The figure was now bleeding on the carpet.

Mars looked up at Dane, cradling, his side, still on the floor. "Dane," he winced. "Close the door—be careful—they're coming—they hit me—lightsabers—I asked them for Code—and they—Oh, Force…"

He faltered and shuddered for breath witheringly. Dane immediately swung her old comrade's arm over her shoulder, as she had often had to do in the Mandalorian Wars, and dragged him to the couch. Demi closed the door, and locked it for her.

"Dane," she said, apprehensively and fearful. "What's going on?"

Dane shook her head. "I…I don't know. Mars just…And I can't…"

"Do you have any weapons?" Demi cut in, suddenly feeling like the General she used to be. "Or bandages of any kind?"

Dane shook her head. "No bandages. But I do have my Mandalorian blaster in the closet. I got it during the Mandy Wars."

Demi knelt down beside Mars who now lay back on the couch, breathing hard, staring at the ceiling. She passed a hand over his side. Healing light transferred from her palm to him, and the bleeding seemed to slow down.

Mars was staring at her. "Who—?"

"You," said Dane, her eyes widening, looking at Demi also with a sort of awe. "You're a Jedi. Do you have your lightsaber? I have a feeling we're going to need it."

Demi thought backward. "No. I think my lightsaber was taken from me before I was put in the kolto tank…or maybe it got damaged in the crash…" The thought sunk her spirits low. She had put her life and soul and spirit into making that lightsaber, with its beautiful silver crystals and the way their shadows played on the walls. She and her lightsaber had moved as one graceful being.

"Try to find another blaster for yourself, then. I don't know what happened to Mars, but it obviously wasn't an accident." Dane looked down at Mars, his forehead bleeding also, and sadly touched his hair and smoothed it down. "Oh Mars, you idiot…" She looked like she was going to cry. Her hands were now covered in Mars' rich red blood.

Demi felt suddenly very faint, like she was going to puke. Hurriedly, she found the closet and found a powerful looking Mandalorian blaster, and two smaller blaster pistols.

Dane had tucked Mars under the covers meanwhile, and had put ice on his head and was giving him something to drink, but he wasn't responding. Dane put her tears away and took the Mandalorian blaster, her eyes now full of anger.

"I don't know who did this," she said slowly, "or _why_ they did this, but whoever did is going to _pay_."

And that's when the door to the house banged open, its hinges broken. The door fell flat onto the bloodstain left by Mars. It crashed with such a loud force, and from the open doorway, about ten dark clothed figures leapt into the house and lighted their lightsabers. The lightsabers were blood red.

**::.Back in Coruscant.::**

Carth was sitting on his twirling chair looking through the large glass window that was more like a large glass wall. He was watching the small space shuttle take off, with Griff inside of it. Carth had had to send a search party after Leo, which made two search parties in all…One after Elaine; and the second one after one person who had been been in the _first_ search party looking for Elaine. Carth sighed and tugged his orange jacket closer to himself.

_Am I going crazy?_ he wondered.

"Sir?" A tentative voice opened the door. "I brought you a drink. You looked like you needed it."

Carth looked up to see Ian Pace at the door. "Oh, hey Ian. Come to join the party?" He gestured around the empty room.

Ian raised his eyebrows, decided not to ask, and left a warm mug of caffa on the table. Suddenly, before he could withdraw, Carth grabbed his wrist with a firm soldier's grip, and pushed back his sleeve. "What's this?" he questioned, seeing a silver link bracelet wrapped around Ian's bony wrist. "I haven't seen anything like this before."

"It's nothing," Ian muttered, taking his hand back, and pulling the sleeve over it. "Just a token."

Carth let it drop. "Six years," he said now, staring back out the window.

"Excuse me, sir?" (Obviously, Ian was having a hard time not calling Carth 'sir.')

"Six years," he said again. "Six long years I've been waiting for her. Who knows where she is now? She might be…" Carth had been about to say _dead_, but couldn't bring himself to say it. Besides, he would know if she was dead, right? He should be able to feel _something_.

Carth half-laughed, suddenly feeling very drunk even though he had not had anything to drink in days.

Ian looked uncomfortable and was starting to edge towards the door. "Anyway, Admiral, I just thought I'd check up on you."

"My son's coming to visit me tomorrow," Carth said.

"Your son?"

"Yes, my son, Dustil. I'd like you two to meet. You'd be like brothers."

"Like brothers," Ian repeated, suddenly wishing he had never come. A strange look was on his face. He looked forlorn. "I've got to go, sir."

"Of course," Carth said, his eyes dark. "Of course."

Without saying goodbye, Ian Pace left, and Carth was left to look into his cup of caffa Ian had brought him. It tasted bittersweet.

**::.Somewhere…Out there.::**

Atton spat into the darkness, finding himself tied up to some sort of pole, and not enjoying himself one bit. _I knew cantinas this far out weren't safe,_ he muttered to himself. But then, he couldn't resist a cup of juma.

"Anyone else here?" he called out. He thought he heard someone moan a little to his left, but from his right came another noise…Soft footsteps.

Suddenly the figure was right in front of him. Atton's felt his heart beating faster. He felt the breeze as the person leaned forward.

"I don't have much time," the voice said, and Atton received a shock when he recognized it as a female voice. "I believe we've met before. My name is Brianna, or the Handmaiden. I've come to help you."

* * *

A/N: Cliffhanger! I think I'm going to go and play the game as a Male Exile (for the first time) just so I can get to know Brianna better. Ttyl! 


	8. 7: Inspire Me

**Chapter 7 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Inspire Me

**I**t was nighttime when Leo awoke.

The first sensation he felt was like drowning…In a half-awake state he disconnected his tube and pressed a red button to let himself out of the kolto tank. He knew he wasn't supposed to let himself out like that, but there was no one to drain the water away and let him out in a more practical way…

_Forget practical_, he told himself sternly, thankfully gulping down the fresh air.

He looked around. The kolto tank beside him was broken…Demi had obviously smashed her way out. Leo smiled dimly. His sister was a feisty one.

He found himself in one of those ridiculous, brown undersuits, or whatever you called them, that made him look like a wanna-be Wookiee. Leo couldn't remember ever having worn one under his silver swoop racing uniform, so maybe whoever worked in this place had put it on him? The thought made him grimace. Or maybe he just had really bad style?

Smiling, he found his clothing in a nearby bin (_Thank the galaxy_, he thought), as well as his grenades. But Demi's Jedi robes were gone.

But if she wasn't here, after the crash, then where in the Force was she?!

Leo headed to the window. He saw round-domed homes and hills and a few trees and the ocean, which was carrying over a salty but refreshing breeze. But what caught his eyes (a green one and a blue one, just like Demi's) were what looked like long, dancing, red sparks coming from a certain house.

_Long, dancing, red sparks?_ Then he remembered. _Lightsabers._

So they were after him again. He swept down the stairs and broke into a run. Demi was in danger and it was all his fault.

::.**Coruscant**.::

"No cheating," Mission said darkly to the figure sitting before her. "Just 'cause you're Carth's son doesn't mean you have any right to win unfairly."

Dustil smiled teasingly. He looked like he was doing well, and was happy enough, but he still carried scars from his long ago Sith training. He had told her about the scar from his shoulder to his collarbone, and the other one deep inside him for having betrayed his father as he joined the Sith. There had been an awkward silence, and then she had reprimanded him for showing off. Mission inwardly sighed and wished she had been more understanding or sympathetic. But she couldn't be any of those two things right now. Not after Griff…Mission shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"I'm not cheating," Dustil said, smiling teasingly. "I just happen to be leaning over just a bit to get a glimpse of your cards…"

_THWACK!_

Mission had slapped him. "Well, don't."

Dustil backed away, nursing a red cheek. "Well, aren't we vicious today."

"You know, I've never really understood the practical usefulness of pazaak," said Mical, who was watching the whole scene. "In my opinion, this game just seems to bring out the worst parts in people."

"Only when the other player cheats." Mission was in a bad mood. "Your turn, Dustil."

**::.Over Coruscant.::**

Carth was in the cockpit of his two-seater ship, flying over Coruscant. It felt good to finally be in the pilot's seat, actually _doing_ something. Not waiting in the passenger seat waiting for something to happen. Other small ships flew around in the traffic, and tall bluish-white buildings were all around, just part of the scenery in Coruscant.

"Anything new?" he said into his holocom.

Ian Pace's voice came through. "Nothing much," he admitted. "Just a plain old boring d—" There was the sound of fingers on a keyboard. "Hold on, I'm getting an incoming message."

"From who?"

"The Jedi Council. Apparently they want to have a little 'talk' with you."

Carth frowned. "But I thought that the Jedi Council was finished. One of them was corrupted, the others murdered…"

"Right, but whenever a leader is killed, they find someone to replace him, right?"

"Oh, boy," Carth sighed. "Politics. All right, I'll take care of this. Thanks, Ian."

"No sarcasm, now," was his reply. And his holocom clicked off.

Only then did Carth realize that during their whole conversation, Ian had managed not to call him 'sir' even once. Carth smiled. They were making progress.

He joined the traffic flying over the city of Coruscant, and made his way to whatever awaited him.

**::.Deralia.::**

By the time Leo had reached the front door of the house, he was panting. He felt a stitch in his side. Nevertheless, he ignored it and stepped over the threshold to enter the house. The door had been blasted down.

As Leo was just about to step inside, a flash grenade went off. He stumbled back, momentarily blind and deaf from the explosion. He heard a woman yell, as though from far away, "Quit blowing up my damn house!" There was the confusing and exhilarating sound of lightsabers and yells.

It was then that Leo realized that he had no weapon. "Oh, smart," he muttered. It seemed like the rest of the commotion was in the other parts of the house. He might be able to scrap a weapon from a fallen person. Hopefully, that fallen person would not be Demi.

Gathering his bearings, he took a deep breath and rushed into the house as stealthily as he could.

Now, Leo had never seen Demi in action. And if he had before, he would never have thought that she would be anything but alive right now. She was on the second floor right now, and even with just two small blaster pistols, she seemed to be all over the place. The sound of her blaster and the vibrations of the lightsabers and grenades and yells took over her…everything seemed in slow motion…

There was Sith everywhere, and sometimes, they didn't even feel like the Sith that she once knew. They fought stealthily, in hiding, but when more of them came together they swarmed, came out, and surrounded her.

She was firing her blaster pistols at the upcoming Sith who were encircling her nonstop. Two of them fell, the others used their Force powers to reflect the bullets back. Demi dodged them, muffling a yell of frustration, then jumped over a lightsaber that was aimed for her knees. She targeted the attacker to deliver a blow to his head. She knew the power cell was almost out of energy.

Deliberately she aimed a shot at the head of another Sith, and when her attack found its mark, she couldn't help flinching and feeling a wave of guilt and self-disgust. She tried shooting the other Sith, but he or she was too quick for her. The Sith brought its lightsaber behind its back, attempting to bring the lightsaber crashing upon Demi's skull. She knew she wouldn't have time to dodge it. It seemed like everything was in slow motion again. Demi felt and saw the red flash of light, but held her ground and used all the pent up energy and Force and passion within her to push it back. A sort of shield had formed around her. The Sith's critical hit had faltered and could not penetrate the shield, and so Demi found the time to crouch down on the floor and aim a hard sweeping kick at the Sith's legs.

She whirled around immediately to hit the upcoming Sith behind her with the barrel of her gun, while Dane, ahead of her, finished off the other Sith. Demi could see another one down the bottom of the stairs, and because of the light coming through the open door, she could see that this one was female. Her lightsaber was off, probably to avoid detection, but as she saw Demi looking down at her, she ignited it and did an amazing flip up the stairs and was almost at Demi. Immediately, Demi threw the gun in her right hand, and it hit the Sith in the neck hard. Demi heard the crack and winced.

Now it was quiet.

"Are they all gone?" Demi whispered to Dane.

"I doubt it," was her answer.

Demi felt a Sith behind her, and brought her elbow back to hit him in the stomach, but the figure caught her elbow said, "Easy now. It's me. It's Leo."

Her breath caught in her throat in surprise and relief at hearing her brother's voice. She turned around. "Leo?"

"Yes. I just said that."

Suddenly, Demi launched herself at him and hugged him. Leo was surprised, but smiled all the same, and patted her back. When Demi withdrew, she said, "Well, you sure took your time coming here."

"Yeah, and I'm sorry about that. But I did take care of the Sith downstairs. I used pretty much all of my grenades. How are you feeling?"

In the moonlight coming through the dome-like window above, Leo could see her looking at him strangely. "_Spectacular. _Never felt better." She rolled her eyes. "Get down, Leo, just in case there are more."

Demi took cover behind a piece of furniture, scanning out the room. "It's too dark in here." And that darkness was the enemy's best protection.

"I'll turn the light on," replied Dane, moving to the switch. But she never got to it.

A Sith, who had been crouching, of all places, on top of a book shelf, leapt down at her. And several things happened in a very few seconds.

Dane, frightened and surprised, started firing her Mandalorian blaster in every direction. Then Leo yelled "Demi!" He was holding a lightsaber, one he had just picked up from a fallen Sith. She dropped her blaster, and caught the lightsaber hilt in turn, ignited it, then Force-threw it at the shadow who had leapt at Dane.

The Sith fell like a rag to the floor, then it was quiet again.

Dane flicked on the light, and the room illuminated. Her hand was on her heart. "That scared the living daylights out of me," she said. "Thanks."

Demi switched off her lightsaber. "How's Mars?"

Dane shook her head. "Downstairs. I left him on the couch…A—A Sith. I couldn't stop it. Him, her, whoever it was. He finished Mars off. Mars is dead." She looked away. Her voice sounded hollow.

"I'm sorry, Dane," Demi said softly.

Dane shook her head. "Don't be. Being sorry doesn't bring people back to life."

Demi, not knowing what to say, looked around. There didn't seem to be any more living Sith, but the place looked terrible. Sith bodies all around, blood on the walls, furniture knocked askew…the banister on the stairs had been blasted apart too.

"Wait," said Demi, creeping silently over to a Sith body on the floor. "He's still alive."

Demi knelt down beside the body. The Sith was breathing forcibly and it didn't seem like he would live very long.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Demi. "Why are you trying to kill me and my friends? Why?" She shook him by the shoulders.

"You—you don't know?" The Sith started laughing. "Ha-ha…well I suppose…that…was to be…expected. Ask _him_. It's all his fault…that…we're here." And he pointed a quivering finger at Leo.

Demi looked around. "Leo?" She turned back to the Sith, and grabbed him by the collar. "You're lying."

The Sith just laughed, and a spurt of blood came out of his mouth.

Demi, disgusted, stepped back.

"Remember this though…We cannot be fully…defeated. Ever. Wherever you are, wherever you hide…We…will…find…you."

The Sith laughed again, and then he froze, quivered, and died. Silence took the house once more. This time it was the absolute kind of silence.

Demi shivered and turned around to Leo, expectantly. "What. The hell. Was he. Talking. About." It was not a question.

Leo sighed. "I'll explain everything," he promised. "But first I think we should use a huge bandage on that." He pointed at Dane's forehead, where a bloody gash had appeared.

Dane touched it and winced. "You're right. I think we all got a little hurt. Follow me downstairs, I've got a few medpacs." She trudged downstairs, muttering, "Look at the bloody state of this place."

Demi and Leo were left upstairs. Demi, who had been full of energy before, now felt entirely worn out. She sighed and looked downwards, shaking her head. "What a mess."

Leo put a hand on her shoulder. "But we can help fix it. This is mostly my fault, so it's the least I can do."

Demi was too tired to ask questions, as well as a little unsure as to how Leo was connected in all of this, and what, if he had done anything, he had done. But for the moment, Demi was too tired to think of anything. "Let's go downstairs."

She put her head on his shoulder, and the brother supported his sister all the way down the broken stairs.

* * *

A/N: Onto the next chapter… 


	9. 8: Revolution

**Chapter 8 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Revolution

_**I**t was a broken world._

_Elaine had learned this long ago. Yet she had come so far and realized now that she still had a lot to learn. She had forgotten how powerful a person's greed could be. She couldn't believe things had come to this. And she couldn't believe that she was back here again._

_With a desperate heave, she lifted herself higher, until her feet found some foothold in a crevice. Elaine was hundreds of feet up, climbing up a mountain that just wouldn't seem to end. She looked briefly below her, her dark curly hair swinging in front of her eyes, and her pink Verpine Headpand, which was used to enhance her eyesight, zoomed down on a distinct shape below her._

_Damn. He, she, it…whatever or whoever it was…was catching up to her. And she knew what it wanted. Her goal was to get it as far as possible from those reaching hands. And to get on top of this ridiculous cliff._

_Her muscles were sore, and yet she reached for another crevice to lift herself up higher, never stopping. That was one reason Carth had admired her. Her ability to keep going, no matter what stood in her way. That was all she had to think about right now._

_As she grasped for a handhold above her, her left hand still on the wall, her right foot slipped, and she couldn't help but utter a little scream at the sight of nothing whirling down below her. Just nothing. No ground or clouds even. Just darkness._

_Taking a deep breath, she reached again and recovered, the stone cold and moist beneath her fingertips. Her purple eyes winced in pain and fatigue as she attempted to pull herself up. She was almost there. She could feel it. _

_Elaine suddenly felt an updraft of wind, coming from the Shift, the outside barrier into this world. Was somebody else entering?_

_But as near to her destination as she was, she just couldn't make it over the edge. And the dark figure below was almost to her. Hanging there, hundreds of feet above the ground, Elaine did the unthinkable. She let go of the wall, pushed herself off, embraced the wind coming from the Shift, and _flew.

**::.Deralia, underground.::**

_BEEEEEEEEEEEP!_

T3-M4 suddenly awoke from this nightmare. His mistress had jumped from a cliff! And the world was still revolving! The nerve!

"Easy, there droid," said Grace, the droid repairwoman, trying to keep T3 under control. Her curly blonde hair hung down, the straps of her goggles keeping it in place. She never tried tying her hair up; it was too uncontrollable. The noise in this place was astounding. Machines running, sparks flying, everything. But she loved this place. She loved doing what she did best and putting it to good use. Like fixing these two droids, for instance. It had been hard work to put them back together, especially after that crash they had both been through, but Grace could do hard work.

It was just like putting together a puzzle. With the right pieces, and a good eye, things couldn't go wrong.

But the other droid was giving her an especially hard time. She had almost regretted it after she had finished wiring him back up. "Impatient Statement: I suggest you just leave the other droid there. Unabashed Admittance: He looks better to me when he is unassembled than when he is together in one piece."

T3 beeped in angry retort.

"Easy there, fellas," said Grace. She turned to the taller droid and read his circuitry. "Must I remind you…uh…_HK-47_, that you are one of the older, outdated models? So I wouldn't be teasing T3-M4 if I were you."

"Reluctant Agreement: I will refrain from teasing this trash compactor in the future."

T3 stung him with a shock arm before whizzing innocently away.

"Hey, come back here!" yelled Grace, brandishing a hydrospanner as T3 rolled out of the underground warehouse, almost running over another worker in the progress. "I haven't finished your circuitry yet!" She gave a reluctant sigh. "See you later, T3-M4. You're done, HK. Where are you heading?"

"Rushed Farewell: To leave, or not to leave, that is the question. Hmmm. I never knew I was such a cultured droid. Query: Was that your doing?"

"Uh…" said Grace. "Maybe? I don't know. Maybe your memory core just picked up some knowledge about literature after the crash. Unlikely…but possible."

"Dismissive Statement: No…I think I was always just this brilliant. Farewell, Droidfixer."

And HK headed after T3, rifle, of course, ready in his hands.

Grace shook her head, smiling. Hands on her hips, she looked around.

"Time to clean up," she sighed, and set the cleaning droids out. She picked up a broom herself, and as she was about to start sweeping everything away, she saw something on the floor. It was sparkling…

Kneeling down, she picked it up. It was a shard of some sort from T3. Grace must have forgotten to install it back into T3. She gasped, realizing it was part of T3's memory core…

_Oh, no…How could I forget this?_

Grace peered at it. Strange…It was still glowing. She looked at it for a long while, and for a moment, she thought she saw a tall building, fortressed between desert and sun, held up by many columns. Then she blinked.

It was gone.

Shaking her head, she pocketed it, and sprinted out the door after T3, to try to return it. After climbing the spiraling ramp, she used her hands to shield her eyes from the sun, and looked around.

"Where are they?" she wondered. Grace sighed. T3 and HK were long gone.

**::.Unknown Location.::**

Brianna, the Handmaiden, helped Atton remove the mechanical bind that bound his hands behind his back. Atton just sat there, trying to piece this together.

"Remind me…You said earlier…that we've met before?"

"Yes. At least once."

"Huh." Try as he might, he just couldn't remember, yet this Handmaiden seemed very familiar to him. Brianna had been able to take apart the lock on his hands, freeing him from the pole, but was having a hard time taking apart the lock at his ankles. The key she had stolen wasn't working.

"Here, I'll do it," said Atton. He reached inside his boot for a little laser he'd kept that could melt through metal. He pressed a button, and a red beam of light came through, and cleanly cut through his bonds.

He was free.

"Impresssive," said Brianna.

"Yes, I know." He stood up, in the darkness, and stretched. "I, ah, have many questions."

"I know. It's only to be expected. But now is not the time for conversation." She stood up too.

Atton held up a hand, although he knew Brianna couldn't see it in the darkness. "Hold up. I hear something."

Brianna closed her eyes. For some odd reason, whenever she did that, she could hear better. And she felt someone. Someone struggling in the darkness. She felt disgust. How many prisoners did they keep in here?

Atton headed over to the source of the noise. His eyes, having quickly adjusted to the darkness, could see someone tied up, just like him. Except this one had been gagged, and was a twi'lek. Close up, Atton could see his eyes wide in panic.

"Who is this?" asked Brianna. "Be careful, Jaq."

Atton felt his heart thump in his chest. He whirled around. "What did you say?"

"Jaq," she repeated simply. "That is your name, isn't it? At least, that was what you had told me, many years ago. I just remembered."

"I never—"

"Then who _is_ Jaq?"

There was silence.

"Jaq…" said Atton finally. "Jaq is no one. He's gone. He's…long gone."

"I see."

A muffled yell came from the tied up twi'lek.

Atton, pushing aside the thought of him actually having told his real name to some random person, knelt beside this prisoner. "Easy there, fella. We'll get you out of there." Atton undid his ankles and arms, using his laser, and Brianna carefully removed his gag.

The twi'lek gasped in relief at being freed. "Thank the galaxy. Thank _you_. I thought I was done for. I've been here for weeks."

"Who are you?" asked Brianna suspiciously.

"The name is Griff, ma'am. And I've got to hurry. I don't…I don't think I could live if Mission met _him_ and actually thought _him_ was _me_. She's gonna kill me for sure."

_And the questions build up,_ thought Atton.

**::.In Coruscant.::**

"Dustil!" said Carth in surprise, as he got out of his shuttle.

"Hey, Dad."

There was an awkward moment of both trying to shake hands, and then Dustil just shook his head and threw his arms around his father. When they both withdrew, there was a well of emotions in both of them wanting to get out, of things unsaid for many years, but they both pretended like nothing had happened, and stuck their hands in their pockets and walked along the empty corridor together.

"So, you decided to escort your dad to a Jedi meeting. That's very…courteous of you."

"I know. Amazing, right?" Dustil wore a lopsided grin that quickly disappeared.

"So…How's life?"

"Um…tough."

Carth wished for something to say. "Do you have any idea what this meeting is about? Because, personally, I'm rather clueless."

At this, Dustil really smiled. "Ah…yes, I do. I think you'll be rather surprised."

"About which part?"

Dustil thought. "Everything."

"Is it…safe?"

Dustil laughed. "I think so."

They had reached the end of the door. "See you, Dad." He clasped Carth's shoulders briefly, then headed back down the corridor.

Quietly to himself, after Dustil was long gone, he said, "See you, son."

Why couldn't he bring up anything about Telos, Saul, Morgana, or Korriban? Maybe…maybe, inside they both knew. Maybe there were some things that didn't need to be expressed in words. Still, something was bothering him about all this in the back of his mind. He sighed and pushed open the door for the meeting with the Jedi Council.

First, he blinked.

Second, he laughed.

Third, he quickly coughed to choke down his laughter because even though they were his friends and comrades, they were now the Jedi Council. Respect was demanded. He should have seen this coming.

"Well, Carth, about time. You walk even slower than me, and I'm—what—twenty years older than you, or so? I guess youth isn't everything! –Or maybe that's just me being envious."

"Hey, Jolee." Carth smiled dimly.

This room was high above with a view of Coruscant, with nine high chairs circled around the room. The chairs at both ends were empty. But from left to right, was none other than Bao-Dur, Visas, Jolee, Bastila, Juhani, Mical, and Mira. They weren't wearing any fancy robes, just what they normally wore, but their lightsabers all hung at their sides, and suddenly, sitting up there, they all just seemed _wiser_.

"Am I here for a payback reprimanding?"

"No, 'course not," said Mira, not looking at him, but at her nails. "There are just some topics that we'd like to discuss. With you. About some things."

"Please take a seat, Carth." Bastila ushered to a chair they had pulled out for him, in the center of the room.

"All right." He still felt a little uneasy, but felt glad that they weren't trying to intimidate him or anything. His chair was the same height as theirs. "So…how long have you known that you were going to be the next Jedi Council?"

"Since the other Council was…demolished, shall we say," said Juhani. She looked like a Cathar queen at the moment. Perhaps it was the throne she was on, or the sun behind her, or how the handled herself… Passionately, regally, almost.

Bao-Dur, at the end of the row, flexed his mechanical arm, looking at it thoughtfully. "Apparently, we are the Lost Jedi. Sounds a bit too formal for me, but I was dragged along for the ride."

Quietly, Visas nodded and added, "Demi and Atton would be here too, if not for some…complications keeping them far away."

"And why am I here?"

Mical frowned at the ground, some of his blonde hair flopping over his eyes. "Well, we've just figured out something about the enemy that Revan and Demi are heading towards."

"And personally," interceded Mira, "it doesn't sound too pleasant."

"Not too pleasant?" questioned Mical. "Mira, please. Someone should admit it outloud. It is _suicide_."

"Well, aren't you the optimist," Mira grumbled back.

"Everyone, please," said Bastila. From her chair in the center, it was like she was the one in command. "We will explain it to you, Carth. Bao-Dur, take it from here."

"Will do. Well, five years ago, I put a tracking device on our little droid, T3. But, suddenly, earlier this week, the connection went dead. There was no trace of him whatsoever. But this morning, we were able to hear from him. I wasn't really able to get any news of the General, but T3 sent me an image through this tracking device. And this is what came up."

There was a small pedestal in front of Carth that he hadn't noticed before, and on it, was a holovid, and suddenly, it started playing.

Another shock. It was her. It was Elaine.

They all watched as she climbed that mountain, looked down at the dark shape below chasing her, and then, how she let go and jumped into the air. Then it cut off.

Carth stood up. "What? Why did she do that? Why did she just give up?" He looked up at them, almost accusingly. "What happened to her?!"

"Easy, flyboy," said Mira. "Sit down. Listen, she's not hurt. Well, maybe just a little. But she's not dead. She's basically fine at the moment, if you exclude the fact that she is stranded on a mountain hundreds of feet up, far out in the universe, with a Dark Sith psycho chasing after her, closely followed by another flock of Sith coming into their planet."

"Look who's the optimist," Mical said, rather darkly for such a usually good-natured person.

"But…how was she able to survive?" questioned Carth. "We all saw her…let go."

Bastila shook her head. "Apparently, the wind coming from the Shift was enough to levitate her up to where she wanted. The Shift is the barrier, or the entrance, into the planet she is currently in. And whenever somebody tries to enter through the Shift, well, you saw it. It's like a windstorm."

"Who was chasing her?"

"Sith," said Jolee, with distaste. "We haven't found out what it is the Sith want from her, or what the Force she's doing there in the first place, but we're working on that. However, we do know a bit about that planet."

Visas closed her eyes. "I felt…pain. When I first envisioned that place. It reminded me of my homeland. The people living there are barely alive, save for one thing."

Juhani looked up. "It's called Aionzoë. Water. Aion means eternal. Zoë means life."

"Eternal life," whispered Carth. He looked up. "You've got to be kidding. Water that makes you live forever?"

"We were skeptical at first too," said Bastila. "But…we looked at records in this place's library. And it explains everything."

Carth swallowed, the taste in his mouth suddenly going bitter. "So…you're saying that the enemies that Elaine is going to face…Can't technically be defeated?"

"Not technically," said Mical. "It's a proven fact. Elaine…she's a goner."

"Shut up!" Mira hit him on the shoulder. "There's still a bit of hope, you schutta! Stop turning everything into a star opera!"

While they were bickering, Carth stood up, took the holovid, and exited out the doors, the burden on his shoulders greater than before.

**::.Deralia.::**

"Answers."

Dane said it simply, yet with a touch of anger and impatience.

"I need answers."

"Yes. Yes, I know," said Leo, a bit wearily.

He started to sit down on the couch, but suddenly Dane screamed, "Don't sit there!"

Leo bolted up as though electrified. "What? What's wrong?"

"Just…don't sit there, all right? Please." Dane sat down at another chair, her eyes red.

"That's where Mars was, earlier," Demi said to Leo. "And then he…"

Leo nodded. "Couch. Off limits. Got it."

Demi turned to Dane. "What are we going to do with his…body?"

Dane shrugged. "I have to bring it to the House of the Departed. They probably already know he's gone. The bracelet I was telling you about, it keeps the record of your heart beating, your body heat, and other things. Once things stop functioning and go cold, they just…know. The people up in the station. Then they seal away his body in an air-tight container, and lock him away. They delete the digits on his bracelet, and all records of him on their computers, so it was like he never was here in the first place." She sniffled. "It's a sucky way to die."

"Should we report what just happened?" whispered Demi. She didn't know why she was whispering. Maybe it was more soothing. "Your house…I'm so sorry."

Dane waved that away. "I keep telling you, stop being sorry. It doesn't change things. You have to actually do something if you want a change, not sit there being sorry."

Demi was almost tempted to say, "Sorry," again, but luckily, bit her tongue in time.

"What I need now are answers."

Leo pulled a hand through his white hair. "This…could take a while."

"I'm listening. But that doesn't mean that I will believe everything you say. It was probably your fault the Sith came here, after all."

Leo raised his eyebrows at Demi. "This remind you of a conversation we were having earlier?"

Demi rolled her eyes. "Just go on, Leo."

"All right, all right. Well, I suppose I should start way back. So you learn a bit more about my past. Way back…Geez, I haven't talked about it in ages."

Demi sat on the ground near her brother. This reminded her of when she was talking to her former companions on the Ebon Hawk, helping them dig up their pasts and make peace with themselves. "Where does it start?"

Leo looked at her. "Taris. You remember, I was a swoop racer?"

"I thought Taris got blasted apart," said Dane. "How'd you end up alive?"

"I met two people. Carth and Elaine. I helped them free this brown-haired woman one day, at the tournament. Her name was…Bratila, I think. No, no, it was Bastila. That made me gain quite a few enemies, with whoever wanted her captured. So, Elaine agreed to let me stay with them for a while, as part of the crew, till the coast was clear. Later they got possession of a ship, the Ebon Hawk. They all decided they would drop me off at Tatooine, because there was quite a lot of swoop racing going on there, and after Dantooine, that was their next stop. I got on board and we flew away right as the whole planet was being destroyed."

"You have very good timing," muttered Dane.

Leo raised his eyebrows. "You sound disappointed that I wasn't disintegrated with the rest of the planet."

Dane half-smiled. "No, no. It was a compliment. Go on."

"Well, on Tatooine, I met a person named Griff. Griff Vao. Twi'lek. He cheated at pazaak, but still, we became friends. This Griff…he was very smart. Very, very smart. He had a few weaknesses though. He was sort of…_greedy_. Always had some scheme or other to get rich quick. He was sort of a mess. And he still owes me about 200 credits. Anyway, he had all these contacts from this big company. It was called…Vincentii." He looked up. "You do know what 'Vincent' means, right? 'To conquer.' And…that's exactly what they were planning to do."

Dane nodded. "I've heard of them. Right big pains in the you-know-what." She turned to look at Demi. "Vincentii's the one that has been kidnapping all these people." She shook her head. "I don't like talking about it. I'll let Leo do the explaining."

"Well," he continued. "Before I knew what was happening…I was involved too."

"You what?" Demi gasped, confused. "What were you doing with Vincentii?"

"Me and Griff…Griff and I…Well, I was sort of dragged along, for this thing. In the end, though, I had decided that I wanted _nothing_ to do with it. Griff, however…stayed. I don't know where he is at the moment."

"But what did you do in Vincentii? Did you help them?"

Slowly, Leo started to shake his head, then he stopped and slowly nodded.

Demi groaned. "Leo…."

"I did not tell them everything that I knew. Don't worry. I didn't tell them anything that Elaine had told me."

"I think you're rambling now," said Demi. "What is it, exactly, that Vincentii wanted to do?"

"Take over a planet, and steal some water from the Aionzoë. Or something like that. The Aionzoë is…water that supposedly, makes you live forever. Vincentii wanted that badly. They wanted to take over Nausuma."

Demi shook her head wildly. "Nausuma? Aionzoë? Vincentii? Too many names…I've lost you."

Leo stood up, and starting pacing around. "Revan. Or Elaine. You know what planet she is currently heading to?"

"Nausuma?" guessed Demi.

"Yes. I don't know what she's doing there, but the fountain with water that makes you immortal, is there. It's called Aionzoë. And Vincentii wants it bad. That is all I really know."

"Why did Vincentii hire you?"

Leo stopped pacing. "I hate remembering this. I…told them where that planet, Nausuma is located."

"But…how did you know where it was?"

"From Elaine. Aboard the Ebon Hawk, we started talking. Apparently, she's been there before. As Revan."

"So now Vincentii can just walk in there, take the immortal water, and take over the galaxy as far as we know?" Demi said, fists clenched.

"No. No. I didn't tell them everything. I did not tell them the secret to actually getting in." Leo looked agitated now. "Please listen. I can't tell you everything now. Even I don't really get it. I'm not even sure what Griff was doing with Vincentii. This is all I know. I swear."

"You don't know why Vincentii was capturing people and _cloning_ them?" Dane said, eyebrows raised.

Leo looked down. "After they got all the information they could out of me, they disposed of me, and I quit. I didn't really get to know everything that they were doing. How do you know about Vincentii?"

"They were cloning people?" Demi said, amazed.

"Deralia, my planet," said Dane to Leo, "has a lot of safety issues. They research everything, every threat going on in the galaxy. I don't know their sources. But they have warned us about everything."

"About clones?" Demi repeated.

"To take over Nausuma," said Leo. "I suppose. You forget…Vincentii is very powerful. They have many sources."

"But…_Clones!_" She swallowed. "This was supposed to clear everything up, but all I have is just…more questions."

"Mystery is good, don't forget that," said Leo. "Without it, everything would be very dull."

Demi shook her head. "I hate not knowing what's going on when everybody else around me knows what's going on, and I'm supposed to help, but how can I help when I don't have a clue as to what we're facing?"

"That's quite a mouthful," said Leo, looking slightly bemused, but still, like a brother should, he understood what she was trying to say. "All you have to know at the moment is that Vincentii knows what they want, and they will do anything to get it."

"I've never even heard about them before."

"That's the point. Secret company that nobody knows about. A secret plan to obtain something that will make them undefeatable. Then, total control over the galaxy. Nobody, except for a certain number of people, would have seen this coming."

"But…it's not going to be that easy for them, right?" She looked at Leo searchingly. "We can stop them…right?"

Leo was going to answer, but paused. "I hope so."

"You have been evading my question," said Dane. "What were those Sith doing here and why were they blasting up my house, killing my best friend, and attacking all of us?"

Leo looked thoughtful. "I don't know. They could be the Sith with contracts from Vincentii to get rid of me because I know too much. But maybe not. I think maybe they are really from—"

But before Leo was able to answer, they were all distracted by two little gizkas, hopping along and through the door, and two droids behind them, carrying up the parade.

"Surprised Statement: What are you all doing, standing around? Didn't you know there's a war to be won?"

* * *

A/N: Okay, so this chapter was more like a chapter that was supposed to answer some questions, but instead brought out a whole lot more. After some serious hours of thinking through my plot, I'm pretty sure I know where this is going. I promise:) This is going to be fun! 


	10. 9: Remains of the Day

**Chapter 9 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Remains of the Day

**W**hen somebody leaves another person, an empty void or shadow fills their place, and the person who was left behind feels nothing but loneliness. It was this way for Carth, this was for Atton, this way for pretty much everybody. Even Bastila, who for so long had fooled herself that she could go on without anybody's help.

It was a dark night and a swift shadow passed through the new Jedi Enclave's gardens.

Bastila wore a dark blue cloak, her brown hair spilling out from underneath the hood, her fiery eyes looking straight ahead at her destination.

"Lady Shan," bowed the person working in the Hall of Records. "How may I help you?"

Bastila nodded, and swept back her hood. "I'd like to see the records about old forgotten planets again."

"Right away, miss. Follow me."

He led the way through the long aisles of parchments, documents, and holograms piled high up in shelves. It smelled slightly dusty, and Bastila knew many secrets about the galaxy were hidden in these pages. Finally, they reached a circular door.

"The book is still on the table where you left it, Lady Shan. Please take care to put it back in its marked space when you are done."

"I will. Thank you."

The caretaker shut the door, leaving Bastila in darkness, spare for a few Force-generated candles, and the moon light coming through the see-through ceiling. She sat down, brushed some brown strands of hair from her eyes, and started reading from the immense volume. She trailed her finger down the yellowing page.

"Nausuma," she whispered, reading from the page, the words sounding like an ancient chant as she said it. "'The planet Nausuma is inhabited by creatures called Ha-meshuns. They are remains of the original Sith, that were able to survive over the years, despite human Dark Jedi landing on their homeworld, and sometimes being genetically changed, because of the intermixing of human Sith and Sith-Sith bloodlines. They slightly resemble the Selkath on Manaan, though if there are any distant relations between them both, it is unknown.'"

As she turned the page, the door creaked open and a deep, masculine voice came from it. "Looks like the Princess is catching up on her reading."

"Good evening, Canderous," said Bastila, a little stiffly, turning to the man in the red vest at the doorway. He had a powerful presence, just standing there and talking nonsense. "Must that be your nickname for me? You know I am nothing of the sort."

"Sorry, Princess," said Canderous, stepping further in and shutting the door behind him. "It suits you."

Bastila harrumphed and turned back to her book.

"I came here for a reason," said Canderous. "I didn't come here to be ignored, I'll have you know. I want to know what is going on. You and the others…I swear by the name of Onderon, the second you knew that you were to be the next Jedi, you jumped into your titles and closed the doors on the rest of us, like you always do. Whispering, in your chamber. I want you to know that Elaine…She was Revan once. And in a way, I admired her. She is one of the few worthy of our Mandalorian respect, and I know for a fact that she's in trouble, even if you and the rest of them try to hide it.

"I am not to be toyed with!" he bellowed. "I want to help her and we…have every right to know what's going on every second that it happens. But I'll damned if you try to cooperate. You, my own trusted comrade. Keeping secrets from the rest of us."

There was silence, but the Mandalorian did not move a muscle or leave in a fury. Bastila just stared at the page for a while. Finally, she looked up at Canderous.

"I wasn't aware that we were. –Keeping secrets from you, I mean." She sighed and looked at one of the translucent hologram candles on the wall. Even they seemed fake and unreal, the light that they shimmered onto her eyes of a false quality. "Have we failed? It seems that we're following the same line the former Jedi Council once did. And it was their downfall."

"You weren't aware?!" exclaimed Canderous in disdain. "Then you are acting all the same. You Jedi are not brave or courageous enough, and you are not even honorable enough to admit it." He moved closer to Bastila and her table, each step he made muffled on the floor, yet Bastila was aware of each one he made. "You are afraid to just step out of your little shell and your tradition and come out to show what you really are. You do not notice that as a leader, every eye is upon you. People want answers. You. Are not. Doing. Your job."

Bastila stood then, suddenly fired up. "And I suppose that _you_ are? Why are you away from your clan then, at this time? As a leader you should know that every eye is upon—"

"Do not mimic my words, Bastila!" roared Canderous. The words reverberated around the room. "I'm worried about my friend, a comrade, a true leader. And yet you refuse to help me. You are, from this moment, none of those things. Do not try to fool yourself."

Bastila felt like she had been slapped hard across the face. As she was thinking up a retort, the door opened and through it came the caretaker, timidly, as though he felt he were trespassing. "Pardon me," he tittered. "I'm afraid that I am going to have to remove you. You are disrupting this library and disturbing the Lady Shan's precious moments of peace."

"The Lady Shan?" said Canderous, disbelievingly. "Bah! She is as much of a lady as I am a princess. And there's no need to 'remove' me. I'm not wasting another breath in here."

Canderous swept away, out of sight, but his presence lingered.

"I am so sorry for that scoundrel disrupting the peace," fluttered the book caretaker.

Bastila waved him away. "No. No, it's fine. Please, leave. I'd like to think alone."

"As you wish, Lady Shan." He disappeared.

_Friend, comrade, true leader. _The words echoed in her head. _You are none of those things. Do not try to fool yourself._

Ashamed, angry, and confused, Bastila turned her bleary eyes back to the even more bleary text. And through the hours, she sat there, putting all her will and strength into learning about the mysterious place their true leader had gone.

**::.Vincentii's Headquarters.::**

Atton, Brianna, and Griff seemed to have come to a conclusion: There would be no explanations or questions until they had managed to escape from this place. But when Atton had said that he knew Mission (How could he forget? She was probably the most sneaky and talented pazaak player he had met, after himself, of course), Griff had jumped up and demanded how he knew her. But then Brianna had silenced the both of them, sternly and almost in an annoyed way, as though admonishing two misbehaved children.

"Where are we, anyway?" asked Atton, blinking through the darkness to make sure that nobody else had been tied up in this room too.

"I thought we had just agreed not to ask any questions," said Brianna, rather crossly and coldly.

"Oh, spare me. I've been tied up in some Force-forsaken dungeon for who-knows-how-long, and I think I deserve at least an answer to _one _question. Besides, if I know something about our surroundings, we'd be able to get out of here a lot faster."

"We need a plan," agreed Griff.

Brianna, whose countenance was usually gentle and peaceful, glared at the both of them. "What do you think I am? An unintelligent gizka brain? Of course I have already formulated a plan."

"Of _course _you have," said Atton mockingly. "Why didn't I think of that sooner?"

Griff muttered something like, "I happen to like gizkas…"

"The fact is that you are now standing in the secret Vincentii lair, two hundred and eighty feet underground," Brianna said complacently. "It is located right underneath the cantina you were captured in, I might add. Barely anybody knows it is here. And must I remind you that I have just saved both of you from a horrible fate? You must listen to exactly to what I say. Our lives depend on it. I do not want all three of us to be caught and cloned."

"Slow down, sister," said Atton. "What was that last word again?"

"'Cloned,'" said Griff simply.

"Cloned?" Atton jolted in surprise. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm sorry," said Brianna. "But I don't…_kid…_very often."

"That much is obvious." Atton sighed. "This is one sick place." He closed his eyes to feel his surroundings, even hazily, using the Force. There was a guard outside, patrolling the corridors. Atton checked his pockets. They had taken away his stealth field generator.

"We are going to head to the storage room," whispered Brianna. "They have your weapons and possessions they had previously taken away stored there. Then we will head to the elevator, and make our way up back to civilization, hopefully."

"All right," agreed Atton. "We're going to have to watch out though. There's a guard strolling up and down that corridor right outside."

Brianna fixed her crystal clear eyes on him in surprise. "How do you know?" She already knew this, of course, but was Atton, this annoying scoundrel by any chance actually a J…

"Call it a sixth instinct," was all he replied. "Come on, let's get going. As cheerful as this dark deserted room may be, I'd prefer to get out of here before my golden anniversary, please."

"I have grenades," offered Griff. "Plenty of 'em. My sister lives on those things."

"You have them with you?" questioned Brianna with eyebrows raised.

"No. In the storage room with my blaster and shield and credits and armor and my other pistol and—"

"_Okay._ We get it, Griff. You're like a walking supplies closet. Wonderful. Except you don't have it with you and we need something to get past the guards _now_. What _do_ we have?" questioned Atton.

"I have my staff," said Brianna. She did not mention that she had stayed up late training almost every single night to prove to her sisters that she _was_ strong, ever since that Exile had left. She had wanted to leave with her, that Exile, and learn something of the Force…but something about that scared her. Even through all the difficulties she was put through, even though she was always pushed down by her sisters, she felt safer there, in their icy fortress. And leaving had not seemed like the best thing to do at the moment.

Besides, if she hadn't stayed behind, she wouldn't have learned what she had. And she wouldn't be here right now. And if she wasn't here right now, who knew what would have happened to this Atton and Griff.

Exactly. They had much to thank her for, but they would never know…

Atton was nodding appreciatively. "Those staffs are deceivably strong," he said notably. "I would know. It saved my life once. I almost killed that Mars with it, in training…" He chuckled at the memory.

Griff shook his head. "This place is an impenetrable fortress. You can't knock out a guard here and not get caught. There's gotta be a ventilation duct in here or something…"

They all groped in the darkness. Finally, Atton used his Force sight to see where the cold updraft was coming from. At least the prisoners here got air conditioning. That was an improvement.

"Here," said Atton, pointing to the far corner. "Anyone have something we can use as leverage?"

Brianna refused to ask how he had found the ventilation duct in the darkness so quickly. She took the hooked end of her staff, got in a rooted stance, and pulled as hard as she could using all the strength within herself. There was a loud screeching sound as the grate was lifted free.

"Nice work," complimented Griff.

"Can we fit in here?" Atton asked, then slid fluidly in. "I guess so."

"I just hope nobody heard that," muttered Brianna as she and Griff climbed in too.

Just then, they heard the guard in the hallway mutter something in his radio dispatcher. "Hold on, Vestapo," he said. "I think I heard something in R102. I'll go check it out." They heard his footsteps coming closer to the door.

"Frack," whispered Atton. "He's going to be able to tell that we're gone."

"We should have knocked him out after all," said Griff bashfully.

"It would be my pleasure," said Brianna.

Before any of them could stop her, she had climbed flexibly out of the duct. Then the door opened. Atton could see nothing, but heard a yell, a fist collide solidly with someone's jaw, a few more shuffled sounds, until something dropped to the floor. Then, the sound of a body being dragged to a dark corner.

"Brianna?" whispered Atton tentatively.

Someone tossed him a holoradio dispatcher. Atton smiled up at the Handmaiden, who jumped triumphantly back in. Then the radio suddenly crackled loudly in his hands and he jumped.

"Roal?" a voice said. "How's that status on R102?"

Griff grabbed the dispatcher. "All clear, Vestapo," he said, in a deep baritone voice, sounding exactly like the currently knocked-out 'Roal' had. "They're still here. I'll take care of all patrols in this area. No worries. Go take a caffa break or something. A very _long_ caffa break." He paused. "Note the emphasis on _long_. Over."

Jauntily, he slapped the radio back in Atton's hand.

"Nice job," Atton whispered to both of them, despite himself. Brianna smiled lightly, closed the grate, and turned to Griff.

"Do you know how to get to the storage room from here?"

Atton didn't bother asking why Brianna thought Griff would know his way around here.

"If I remember correctly…" Griff mused to himself for a while. "Yes. Yes, I do. Follow me."

Atton thought to himself, _We make quite a team. This is going to be interesting…_

**::.Deralia.::**

Demi felt the wind embrace her skin, and relished it by tilting her head back to feel the full force of it. There was a sunrise that melted the layers of the sky into a hazy orange. But it did nothing to calm the chaos storm brewing in her mind.

She sighed and sat back in her seat. They were all in a silver hover car that went approximately ten miles an hour, but still. It got them to their destination and it was a relaxing ride. Which was saying a lot, considering all the excitement that had happened in the last hour.

Dane, T3, and HK were in the compartment in front of them, cut off by sound-proof glass. They were all going to check out their ship, the Ebon Hawk, or what was left of it.

"I don't think I really want to see what the Hawk looks like by now," said Demi to her brother Leo.

He laughed. "Can't blame you. But it's survived a lot of crashes before, right? I'm sure it's still in one piece. Or two."

Demi punched him on the shoulder, recalling all the times the Ebon Hawk had not-so-gracefully arrived. They had crashed on their arrival on Malachor V…and on and on and on. They had even almost crashed when they were about to land in Coruscant because their pilot, Atton, had apparently had too much juma the following night. Demi would have fired him if only she didn't love him so much.

Wait a second.

She hadn't really said that, had she? Demi looked around, as though somebody might have heard her private thoughts. Luckily, no one had. Sighing in relief, she settled in her seat.

Where was Atton, at the moment anyway? She betted he was sitting on his behind, comfortable in some chair right now, just relaxing, probably playing pazaak. There was no chance that he was actually _looking_ for her. But inside, she hoped that just maybe…maybe he was.

Mad with herself, she tilted her head back against the seat and bumped it three times. Why was she thinking this when she had made it clear to him to stay behind? She didn't want him to get hurt, that's all, by getting dragged into this. So she comforted herself with the thought that he was still in Coruscant, playing pazaak, leaning on his elbows, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his deep, brown, sparkling, searchful eyes planned his next move.

Yes, that'll do.

She sat back and said to her brother, "It's just so confusing though," she said. "We started off trying to find Revan, we crash our ship, we get attacked by Sith…and now we're trying to stop some evil company from taking over the whole galaxy and possibly the whole universe! And then I start hearing about Vincentii, and Nausuma, and Aionzoë. It just doesn't make sense. And I still don't completely understand why those Sith attacked us. Do they work for Vincentii? Are they trying to find you?"

"I've thought about it and…I don't think they work for Vincentii," said Leo thoughtfully. "But I'm pretty sure they were looking for me…or you."

"Me?" said Demi incredulously. She sighed and looked out of the window wearily. "What would they want with me? I've never done anything to them."

"I don't know. But maybe it wasn't exactly _you_. Maybe they were afraid of some knowledge that just might have been passed down to you—or us. Something our parents knew."

Demi turned to him quizzically. "Just how much do you know about our parents?"

"Well, maybe more than you do," he said carefully. "I was able to talk with our mother, Marian, in Taris. —Briefly, but enough to get some answers."

"Taris again?" Demi pursed her lips. "I'm guessing she wasn't as lucky as you and wasn't able to escape before Malak blew the place up."

Leo sighed. "You guessed right."

"Unfair…You really do have impeccable timing." She turned back to the window. "I wish I could have gotten the chance to talk with her, at least once. So spill. What do you know about our parents?"

"Hmm." Leo turned to the window, but he could not avoid her sparkling, inquisitive eyes. So he exhaled and began. "This is what Marian told us. Our dad was…a dreamer. Apparently he had heard the stories of the Aionzoë, the fountain that flourished of immortal water. And he was convinced that they were true. He did research, drew maps, everything to try to find it. But exactly what he would do if he actually found the fountain, even he didn't know." Leo smiled reminiscently. "Our dad was quite the character."

Demi glared enviously at him. "Now you're sounding as if you _do_ remember him."

"No, I don't. But I do recall that strange string instrument he used to play. Remember? The sound would waft through our entire cabin..."

Demi then reminisced about that strange yet beautiful music she had heard back in Coruscant's ball room. It _had_ sounded familiar… "Yes, I think I do remember that part."

Her brother smiled down at her, and then he continued. "So, anyway, I suppose our dad just liked the mystery of it all." The smile vanished. "Then, the Sith and the native Ha-Meshuns who live on the planet Nausuma _somehow_, through their many sources, heard about him trying to find their homeland. They were convinced he was just another greedy person wanting fame and immortality. So…"

Demi nodded. "They came to our cabin on Dxun and burned everything. But you, Marian, and I were able to escape on the next shuttle. You told me that part."

He smiled again, warmly. "You have good memory."

Demi said nothing. _How could I forget? This is my _past.

"All the maps our father had drawn showing routes to Nausuma were supposedly destroyed in the fire."

"That's where Elaine is now, isn't it?" said Demi. "Nausuma."

Leo nodded gravely. "'Fraid so."

Then, the silver vehicle stopped, hovering above a patch of grass.

"Why are we stopping here?" inquired Demi. She knocked on the sound-proof glass to get Dane's attention. Dane lowered it down. "Why are we stopping here?" she repeated. "Our ship isn't here…"

Dane sighed. "I noticed. But I swear, these were the coordinates sent to me. Why don't we go look around?"

Demi, Leo, Dane, HK, and T3 all exited the vehicle and looked around. Nothing, just fields and hills and plains going on and on and on in all directions…

"This isn't right," said Demi, walking around in circles. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"Well, we certainly crash-landed very far away from the ramp," said Leo. "I didn't know I was such a bad pilot." Demi gave him a look, and he grinned apologetically before turning to Dane. "How did you get this location, anyway?"

"The Acquaintance Code. I work for the landing pad, you know. I told them we needed the coordinates and this is what they gave me. But it's so strange…I don't see anything…" Dane tucked her hair back behind her ear anxiously.

"This isn't happening," said Demi softly, looking around. _Maybe the Hawk is so smashed up now in such little pieces that we can't even see it anymore_, thought Demi dishearteningly. _Or perhaps it's crashed below in the ocean…_She didn't know when she had become such a cynic.

She paced up and down, knowing that it was in vain. Memories passed through her eyes. Cups of white chai and caffa in the hold…Everyone bending over the map to chart their next destination…Sharing secrets with Mira and Visas in their compartment…Chasing Bao Dur's remote around the ship…Playing pazaak with Atton…Sparring in the cargo hold…the view from her secret gun turret space. She had had a full view of the stars from there.

She turned around but everywhere she looked there was nothing, only what had been before and what would never be now.

"Cautious Statement: Master?" said HK-47. "I have something of rather urgent importance to say…"

"This isn't right," said Demi, not hearing him. "Stay here. I'm going to go have a look around."

"Demi," said Dane. "You're not going to walk around here are you? Deralia's bigger than you think. You'll never find it."

Demi fixed her glistening, luminous eyes on hers. "Don't say that. And besides, I'm not walking. I'm flying." She grabbed the keys out of Dane's hand. "I'll be right back."

The next hours flew by and the sun started to sink into the horizon coloring the sky with a palette variety of pink, orange, purple. Demi flew on and on in circles, always seeing the same thing. Hills and more hills. She passed Dane, Leo, HK, and T3 once…twice…thrice…Dane and Leo eventually just sat down and waited for her. They knew it was useless to console her and make her stop searching.

"Is it possible, in your opinion, for our ship…to be in the _sea_ at this very moment?" asked Leo, echoing Demi's thoughts, gesturing towards the waves and cliffs far away. "But that wouldn't make sense…We were rescued, and I remember hitting the solid ground hard, not water…"

Dane shook her head. "I don't…know. I don't know what's going on." She was immensely frustrated. "Somebody stop Demi from going in circles. She's driving me insane. And dizzy."

Eventually, Demi came back. A lot had happened during that ride. A lot of thinking, a lot of feeling and _knowing_ that something had happened that was beyond her control. A complete feeling of hopelessness had overtaken her.

One step off the hover car and she fell to her knees, defeated.

i_The Ebon Hawk is gone…The Ebon Hawk is gone…And it's all my fault…_/i

They all rushed over to her, and Leo let her lean on him to get her back to her feet.

"It's okay," he said, letting her go, knowing full well it was not. "It's alright. We'll figure out what happened."

Demi turned to Dane. "Is there a…" Her voice wavered, she swallowed, and tried again. _Be practical, _she told herself. _Be like Mira. Plan your next move, know what to do in case something goes wrong. _"Is there a place where we can buy a new ship? I have a few credits. How much do ships usually cost?" She looked up at Leo. "Do you know?"

Leo stared at her, then looked away, and shrugged. "No idea. My expertise is with swoop bikes. I do all the maintenance for them. As for ships…Well, I just fly them."

Demi nodded, and started heading back to the hover car. "Let's go," she said, and the rest of them followed her.

Nobody said anything, just got into the vehicle and let Demi drive. Demi did not move her eyes from the path she was taking once, and steered the hover car back to Dane's house, not knowing where else to go.

Dane tried consolingly to get the wheel from her: "I'll drive, Demi," she said gently.

"No. No, I'm good. Thanks." Demi snatched it back and kept driving. She didn't like how her voice sounded as she said that, but she couldn't help it.

Dane sighed and turned away.

_I left the damn caffa maker on…_was all Demi would let herself think.

But thinking that the Ebon Hawk was now gone forever was inevitable…It crossed their minds as much as they tried to prevent it and they could do nothing to stop it. Until…

"Hello?" said a cautious voice. It came from Dane's bracelet, where an in-built speaker was held. "Anybody? Dane?" The voice crackled but nobody moved a muscle.

"Um, yes, this is Grace. From Engineering Fixing Incorporated. I believe they sent you the coordinates to our headquarters…At least I hope so. We have your ship in our hangar. We've been doing major repairs on it, but don't worry, the status is all right. I'm just worried because it's been hours and none of you have showed up yet. I would have called earlier, just we weren't done with the repairing. However, we are now. Oh, and I hope those two droids I fixed are all right. It's just part of my job, you know. Fixing droids for my fellow friendly neighbors. Say hello to them for me. The droids, I mean. Not that I have anything against my fellow friendly neighbors, just…

"Anyhoo, I'm thinking maybe you got lost. Yeah, that happens a lot. Just make sure you're where the coordinates are, and you should see a silver plate on the ground. Just lift it up, and you'll see a tunnel going down underground. That's where our workshop is. It's rather big, by the way. Just find the silver plate behind the big hill. There's quite a lot of them, (hills, I mean) but I'm talking about the really, really _ginormous_ hill. Go down, you can't miss it. I really hope you guys come, because the ship…What's its name…The Ebon Hawk—Is completely finished with its repairs." There was the sound of metal clinking in the background. "We had to put out the fire, charge up a new engine, install it, put the new armor up…But it's fine. It really is. So, yes. Come ASAP. Thank you. I hope this message is at least partly intelligible. This is Grace, signing out."

There was silence for a quarter of a second.

"Glum Statement: That's what I was trying to tell you earlier, Master!" said HK. "If only you listened to me as much as my former master…"

Demi sat back and actually laughed. In relief, joy, surprise, everything. She felt like bouncing in her seat and flying. When their hover car had stopped, they had probably stopped _directly over _the silver plate, hiding it from their view. For all those hours today, she thought she had let everybody down. But everything was all right now. She digested this information slowly. The Ebon Hawk was safe. The Engineering Fixing Inc. had taken care of everything. Whoever this 'Grace' was, Demi was eternally grateful to her.

"We're going back," Demi said, and nobody was thinking otherwise.

**::.Underground.::**

This underground factory was huge. Droids bustled everywhere, engineers were bent over their work, sparks flew…and a charismatic looking woman with goggles strapped over her impossible curly blonde-ish hair was headed their way.

Grace beamed at Demi, and held out her hand, but Demi read her name-tag once, brushed her hand aside and pulled her into a warm hug.

"Thanks so much," she whispered. Then she drew away. "I was feeling so apathetic, which I hate, ever since someone called me that back in Korriban. Anyways, do you truly think the Hawk will be okay?"

Grace fixed an encouraging stare on her, and smiled. "Have some faith."

Demi turned to Dane. "Sorry for being so impossible these last few hours," she said quietly.

Dane just smiled. "It's all right. Everything's fine now."

"I suppose you want some explaining," said Grace.

Leo nodded. "That would be helpful."

"Well…After you crash-landed on our planet, the staff at the med lab pulled you guys out and put the two of you—" Here she pointed at Demi and Leo —"into kolto tanks. The droids however, were scavenged out and given to me to repair." She grimaced. "T3 and HK were in quite a fix…In fact, they were like a puzzle piece I had to solve. A very hard one with many pieces. Many, many pieces. Anyway, I finally finished repairing them, and we let them go." She smiled at all of them. "And then we had to do something for the ship. I…don't really want to tell you what it looked like when we first had to take care of it. All you have to know is that now it's okay."

Here, Grace gestured at two other engineers who pulled apart a large curtain, and behind it was nothing other than the Ebon Hawk. In one piece. A little scratched up, with some silver armor plating on the side that looked rather out of place (it probably covered up some hole), and it seemed to be _smoking_ just a teensy bit near the engine room, but still. It was the Ebon Hawk no less. It was even…

"Good as new," said Grace.

Demi shook her head, grinning. Leo shook Grace's hand and all the other engineers' as well, clearly relieved.

"You never lose your touch, do you, Grace?" Dane said, smiling.

"Well, I've had some practice." She shrugged. "It's quite simple, really. Most of the problem was with the internal network. The power flux coupling got a jumpstart, the routing sequences got de-bugged and ready for any hyperspace navigation; it was a bit rusty, if you must know, and the SOS system along with the mechanical defibrillator, although untraditional, got the job done. The automated voice control is now contactable to any central station and open to any voice user except for this dodgy code I can't seem to penetrate, even with the DATP connected to the A-stat, but it's all good."

Everybody looked at her with a weird expression on their face, including Leo, who was obviously impressed.

"I lost you at, 'It's quite simple, really,'" Demi said, biting back a smile.

Grace laughed. "Sorry! Mechanic talk, I suppose."

Everybody was too happy and distracted to notice two very, very familiar-looking gizkas hopping on the floor.

Demi wanted to explore the ship right now, to try to find her lost lightsaber and see if everything _inside_ the ship was okay.

As she was thinking this, she didn't see it, but Leo had quietly slipped the two little gizkas into his pocket when nobody was looking.

Before she could get up the ramp however, that same familiar ramp where she and Atton had stood only a few days earlier, Grace called her back.

"You…Demi, was it?"

She nodded.

"I just remembered…Your droid over there, T3, apparently lost a part of his memory core. Silly fellow." Grace grinned apologetically. Demi liked how she talked of T3 like he was an actual person. "T3 sped away before I could install it back in…I found it on the floor when I was cleaning up."

"This is a memory core?" Demi squinted at the shard. It was sparkling, and as she tilted it in the light, different rays of color seemed to appear.

"Well…_part_ of it. Sorry about that."

"No, it's okay. I'm…honestly not that skilled at repairing things though, so maybe you could…"

Grace nodded. "No problemo. Come here, T3." She whistled sing-songedly, and T3 came. Demi was envious of her down-to-earth ways, but found that Grace was just so likeable, she couldn't stay jealous for long.

"Statement: I recall my other master was quite efficient in repair. She was the one that strung me up in that compartment where you found me," said HK-47 blandly. "Ah, how skilled she was with that hydrospanner…She disabled me so quickly, so deftly…"

Demi refused to let the comment get to her. "Well, I never said she didn't have good sense," she muttered.

Dane grinned at this, and Grace installed the memory core back in T3, who chimed happily.

Grace & Crew were about to leave, when she remembered something and turned back. "T3, could you play back that segment of that memory shard I found? It played for me, and I thought, maybe it would mean something to Demi…"

Something spindly at T3's top popped up, like a little pedestal re-emerging from below, and then a small holographic movie started to play.

An exotic, immense building held up by columns. The sun and the desert surrounding this fortress. And then, something Grace hadn't seen. It was Elaine, a traveler's pack on her back, her incandescent and luminous violet eyes looking rather weary, but still alive. Her curly dark hair billowed in a ponytail behind her. She seemed to be in an archive of some sort, talking to somebody. The other figure's face was first hidden by an immense volume or book, but then it was lowered, and then they all saw who it was.

Pale features, loose hair worn down for once, a white robe, and blue, icy eyes.

It was Atris.

* * *

A/N: My friend, Aelis, on the KFM site, drew a little sketch for me of Demi and T3. She even got the eyes right! If you want to see it, go here: img(dot)photobucket(dot)com/albums/v706/coconut07/coconut07/Demia(dot)jpg . I have a drawing myself for an upcoming chapter, and want to color it with Paint Shop Pro X. When I finish it, and when we reach that chapter, I'll give the URL here too. :) (If any of you know how to color with Paint Shop Pro X, any help would be great! lol!) Thank you. 


	11. 10: Only in Dreams

**Chapter 10 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Only In Dreams

**C**arth remembered the moment she had first woken up. It had all started with a slap in the face. Literally.

"Ow!" Carth exclaimed, cradling his nose with his hands. Elaine's hand had flown out and had hit him full in the face. She had been asleep, rolling over in bed restlessly, as though a bad dream was disturbing her.

Elaine's eyes suddenly fluttered open, revealing sparkling violet eyes framed by long eyelashes. With great effort, she sat up in bed, the hinges creaking, and rubbed her head. "I feel like somebody hit me with a desk," she moaned. "Or something much bigger." Her dark, long curls were pulled into a ponytail, which swung around gracefully as she put both feet on the floor.

"Hold on," she said slowly, taking in her surroundings. "Who are you? Where am I?" She groaned. "You wouldn't happen to be somebody I met last night after many, many cups of juma? 'Cause that would explain this headache. We didn't—" She gestured to the bed. "_do_ anything, did we?"

"Oh, no, no, no, you've got the wrong idea!" Carth took his hand away from his nose. It wasn't bleeding, just felt very numb. He stood up and pushed away the chair he had been sitting on. "About time you woke up. I was getting worried. So you don't remember anything?"

"Not specifically. That's why I'm asking." She smiled a bit as she continued, "You'll find I'm not one to ask unnecessary questions. I mean, I do remember some things…Such as my name. If we haven't met already, I'm Elaine Skylar."

"Carth Onasi." He shook her hand, a graceful one with long and swift fingers, marveling at her firm grip. "I'm from the Endar Spire. The Sith were taking over our ship, so we took an escape pod to Taris, where we are now." He peered at her anxiously. "Is it coming back to you?"

"Now I wish it wasn't…" She frowned, as a realization hit her. "I ran around that ship in my underwear, didn't I?" She sighed, and bent over to re-tie her boots. "That's just not appropriate."

Carth smirked. "Neither is hitting your rescuer in the face immediately after waking up." At seeing Elaine's expression, he added, "Not that I'm complaining—although you do have quite an arm on you. I'm just glad you revived. We have work to do."

"No surprise there." She stood up, and for a second they both stood eye to eye, which caught Carth off guard. Violet eyes…Unreal…"I've heard a lot about you," she said then.

Carth grimaced. "Yeah," he breathed. "Being labeled as a 'war hero' of a Republic does that to you. So what did you hear? Nothing reputation ruining, I hope."

"Not really."

She wandered over to the edge of the room and opened the footlocker to find her belongings.

"'Not really?' That's not very encouraging."

"Not very," Elaine agreed.

"So?"

"Hmm?" She had a pouch of something in her mouth, while one hand held open the footlocker and the other rummaged through it. Her voice came through muffled by the fabric. "Sho vat?"

"So what did you hear?" He didn't know why he was bothering to ask, but he couldn't help it.

Elaine removed the pouch from her mouth and slung it over her shoulder. "Something about a big loss in your past, and…" She pointed a dagger in its sheath at him before sticking it on her belt... "something very incriminating about your jacket."

"My jacket?" Carth repeated, raising his eyebrows, on the verge of laughing. He glanced down at his orange jacket then back up at her. "What's wrong with my jacket?"

"Don't ask me. I'd ask the person who told me this in the first place, but he's dead now, isn't he?" She regarded him, a sad smile on her mouth. "So what's this job we have to do?"

Carth jolted back to reality. "Right. We need to find this Jedi, named Bastila Shan. Apparently she's very powerful, and crucial to the Republic."

"Alright," Elaine said, and grabbed something off a nearby table, which turned out to be food packets distributed in these apartments to the new tenants. "What?" she demanded in answer to his questioning stare. "We're off to save the Republic, right? Mayhaps the galaxy?" She smiled, her eyes alight with humor. She tossed one at him and said, "We're obviously going to need snacks!"

And she turned the door handle and Carth, after a moment, shook his head, bit down a smile, and followed her.

**::.Much, much later.::**

The other part Carth could not get out of his head was when they had both learned who Elaine really was…Revan.

Back on the Ebon Hawk, Carth's mind had been in turmoil. He knew he shouldn't have trusted anyone. He should have seen this coming. Elaine, anyone could see, was a leader. She was passionate about what she did, and did it well. Just like Revan. And how she always had this hard time remembering her past? Lies. All lies. Perhaps she had just been toying with him, to get to him and Bastila. The Republic soldier and the prized Jedi, under the power of the manipulative and scheming Revan.

No. What was he thinking? She had always been there. The truth was, she was the only one he had trusted. He had told her everything…About Saul, Morgana, Dustil…and Elaine did not see any of those things as his fault. She had given him something to live for again.

Carth slammed his fist against the wall. But Elaine…was Revan. Two different people, one he loathed, and the other he might even love. But they were the same person. Revan had been the cause of the destruction of everything he had loved. But the one thing he didn't understand…How could something so cruel and ruthless even be Elaine? She was a generous person, a person you could always lean on for help…That was the real Elaine.

Maybe she really had had redemption.

Carth hit his fist against the hull of the Hawk again, but this time it seemed like a worthless, fruitless, and hopeless attempt to find some meaning in all this.

"Hey," came that voice from the doorway, tentatively. Carth immediately straightened up. It was the voice of _her_, that strong, beautiful woman he had almost grown to love. No, _no _it was the cold, hard voice that had passed out many cruel orders in its time. A voice that had raised an army and had brought the galaxy to its feet.

"Can we talk? Before you pound this ship to death?"

Talk? Ha. What more was there to talk about? Everything was all talked out. But death? Carth felt his rage even more. He'd like to tell her a thing or two about death.

"We're talking now, aren't we? So how's life been for you, Elaine? That is to say…_ Revan_. How does it feel to be the cause of so much death and destruction? Are you proud? Or is death and destruction not enough? You've even fallen so far as to pretend you care about somebody when all along, you were just playing one of your little games…How does it feel to know that the person I thought you were, isn't really you? How does it feel to know betrayal first hand? How does it feel to be breaking my heart?" His voice grew raspy and broke off.

Elaine had her hand on the doorframe, turned away, not looking at him. She took his words in one by one. "Carth," she whispered.

"No. You know, I really thought I knew you. Turns out, I placed my trust in the wrong person. A Sith Lord. That's all you are. All you'll ever be."

"Carth!" Elaine looked him full in the eyes, her own purple eyes pleading. Tears were involuntarily falling down her face. "You want to know how I feel? All right then. I feel numb. I _do_ feel betrayed. I feel shocked, and angry, and—and…You have _no_ idea what it's like to wake up knowing all the things you've done in your past, except it wasn't really you. It was someone else. But nobody understands that. It's like I'm living a lie, and at any moment, my true, dark self will take hold of me again. And I don't want it to. I don't want it to."

Carth just watched her.

"Carth, I know how this must be for you, but you have to know that you still know me. I'm still Elaine. I'm not Revan. I never will be again. And—and if you can just _trust_ me again, I could believe that myself and it'll give me the strength to go on. Carth…"

She stepped forward, but Carth took a step back. Elaine looked once at his hard, unforgiving face, then swallowed hard and reached to the back of her belt for something.

"What are you doing?" invoked Carth.

Never moving her eyes from his, she took out a blaster pistol, and held it out to him.

"This next bolt can go two ways, Carth," she said, her voice wavering. "Either you take it; take it and do what you once told me you would to do if you ever had the chance. Take this and put the next mark through Revan—me. That's who I am in your eyes, am I right? Or I can take it, and do you the favor, so the bloody mess can be off your hands. So what will it be? Because honestly, Carth, I don't know where to go from here."

"You're insane," Carth said, eyes growing wide.

"See, that's another thing! Somewhere in my distant past, someone said the exact same thing to me. When I was Revan. Force, I should make a novel out of this…'When I Was Revan…' Voices, thoughts, images, memories, secrets…" She gritted her teeth. "And I can't get rid of them. No matter what I do, everything I did in the past keeps haunting me. I've tried everything I could think of, Carth. I tried redeeming myself in everybody's eyes, but it's not enough. It's never enough. I tried losing myself in alcohol, but discovered that that wasn't for me…Force…" She laughed harshly. "I almost thought about shipping myself off to some distant planet, leaving everybody behind, but thought better of it."

Now, Carth found that sentence strangely and painfully ironic.

"I'm not afraid, Carth," she continued, her voice regaining its steadiness. "I haven't come to terms with it. I can't lie and say I have. But I'm not afraid of anybody else. What I'm afraid of is me, and what I might be again. So I'm asking you, Carth—" She took a step forward and held out the blaster once again. Carth did not take the blaster but neither did he step back… "—to do me and the rest of the galaxy a favor. I'm not saying now. I have…I have something to do first. I have to kill an old apprentice. That's my responsibility and I cannot turn my back on that. But afterwards, Carth." She lowered the blaster and kept him at eye level. "Afterwards, I will ask you again. And afterwards, I want you to help me with this. I don't think I'm strong enough to do it myself, but neither am I strong enough to prevent the memories from taking over, turning me back to what I was. So do I…Do I have your word? Do I have your promise?"

Carth just stared at her for a moment. "You're honestly asking me to kill you? You're—you're _requesting _this, calmly, rationally, as though it doesn't mean anything at all. But it does mean things. It means vengeance and revenge, taking back the lives that _you _took from me. It doesn't mean me doing this to quench _your _fear, it doesn't mean me doing this so you can feel better about yourself. Not at all."

"I know," Elaine said. "I know."

Carth wanted to tell her just how much she didn't know, wanted to ask if she could understand the conflicting emotions coursing through him, setting his blood on fire. _I _loved_ you…_

"Take this," she said now, and placed his hands over the blaster pistol, enclasping hers over his. A bitter taste formed in Carth's mouth. "Take this and keep it until the time comes. Then you have my permission and consent to use it…And I think I'll go in peace."

She exhaled, a shudder running through her shoulders, and let go, turning away and exiting the cockpit.

And then, the hands holding the blaster moved of its own accord; at least, it seemed that way to Carth.

It took deliberate aim, and got ready to shoot, finger on the trigger…A vein pulsed in his temple…_Don't think…Just shoot…Don't think…_

There was a loud clicking noise, like a switch crossing over another switch. Carth stared down at the blaster, and flicked the bottom part open. The power cell, what caused it to work at all, had been removed.

Elaine, with her back to Carth, heard the click, and tears started falling down her face. She did not look back, but continued down the hall, the missing power cell held tight in her right hand.

**::.Back to the present.::**

Carth suddenly woke up, sweating, in bed. _I tried to kill her…_He could still see Elaine's face. Hoping, pleading, tear-stained…But during the mission at the Star Forge her eyes were dry, her exterior was cold, and it was as though she had set her whole mind to removing the thing in her past that still brought her memories of pain…Malak.

And she had succeeded.

Eventually, Carth had come to terms with, and even accepted, the fact that Elaine had once been Revan. Carth felt like a fool, ridiculous and ashamed. _What have I done? _That voice never disappeared. Or more accurately…_What did I try to do? _On the shores of the Unknown Rakatan World, after the awards ceremony, they each had been contemplating their own thoughts, and their paths had crossed.

Elaine did not walk up to him when she saw him, but stopped in her tracks, wrapped her arms around herself and watched him. The salty waves swept over her bare feet, undoubtedly cold, but she paid them no heed.

Carth took the last steps up to her and held out his hand. "I need the power cell," he said now, his voice cracking. "Please."

Elaine blinked as though she had been slapped, but after a few horrible seconds, she obliged. She put it in the palm of his hand, along with her fate. She did not say anything.

The moment it touched Carth's skin, he curled his fingers around it, and with all of his might, he threw it as far out into the ocean that it would possibly go. It landed with a splash far out into the sea, and disappeared into the depths of the water.

When Carth turned back to Elaine, her eyes were wide in surprise, and she looked back up at him, disbelieving, not daring to hope.

"See, the thing is, Elaine," said Carth as though they were talking about the weather, "that I was the bloodiest damn bastard for doing what I did. I shouldn't have laid the blame all on you and I…It's going to be hard, trying to put all this behind. But I really want to. 'I'm sorry,' is not going to cut it at all, I—I _know _that, but the truth is that I can't imagine going through this with anyone else." He sighed. "But I'm not…I'm not a fool, Elaine. You can't take me back, after what I did. After what I almost did. To the galaxy with it all! Elaine, you've got me trapped. There's nothing I can—"

Elaine laid a finger on his lips. "You only needed to say three words, flyboy." She glanced up at his eyes, and smiled faintly. "Only three words."

Carth exhaled. "Elaine, I—"

She responded by flinging both arms across his shoulders, and kissing him long and hard and deep. Carth hesitated at first, but then wrapped an arm around her slim waist and pulled her closer to him. He sighed in content, her body aligning with his perfectly, her dark curly hair smelling faintly of berries…Elaine jumped up and wrapped both legs around him, held up above him, staring down into his eyes. One hand traced the lines on his face, remembering, until they reached his lips. And then they kissed again, and it was only paradise…

Carth had smiled at her, his Elaine, and later they had continued their stroll on the beach, but this time they walked together. Happily. A simple kind of happiness.

But now…

Carth looked at the bleak walls around him. It felt like a prison. She was gone. And he was being forced to wait. He wondered how much waiting it would take for him to finally break.

**::.Nausuma, present time.::**

Elaine was sheltered underneath a ledge of hard rock. Everything around her was moist, cold, and forbidding. She had evaded them for now, but even though her teeth were chattering, she couldn't risk a fire. Besides, what would she use to make one? She leaned back, hugging her dark blue robe closer to her shivering form. Suddenly a thought occurred to her.

"I miss my son," she whispered. But nobody was listening.

**::.One year ago, Peragus Mining Facility.::**

"Well," drawled a voice in the corner. "Looks like they changed the uniforms in this place. The skimpier the better, apparently. Can't say I'm complaining though." The handsome, brown-haired prisoner coughed. "Unless you were a guy. Then that would just be wrong."

Demia Thress looked down at her brown undersuit…thing…she had found herself in and sighed loudly, before crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't know who you are, but watch it. Waking up in kolto tanks and meeting an old lady who I _thought_ was dead, isn't exactly my ideal day. And don't move your eyes from my eyes!"

Demi looked at the prisoner. He was sitting cross-legged in his Force-cage, a pazaak card dangling between his fingers. He had brown hair that flopped over his brown eyes in the most accidental way. The depths of his eyes concentrated a focused and aware sort of energy, and while his lips curled mischievously, Demi could tell there was more to him than the lopsided smile and sarcastic remarks he displayed.

"Look whose eyes are wandering," the prisoner said back, inspecting her inspecting him. "So…you wouldn't by any chance be here to rescue me, would you?"

"Rescue you?" Demi said, faking as though she hadn't already thought that. "And what gave you that idea?"

"Well…the fact that you're actually here. Nobody has been in here to see me for days. Therefore, total lack of any edible sustenance. That's just criminal."

Demi just looked at him.

"Food," he said. "I meant food."

"I know what you meant," said Demi.

He held her gaze for a moment, then said, "Anyway, you don't look like a worker here. Hint from the wise and experienced: Everyone who works here is mean. Old and mean. And you're definitely not old. You're not too mean either, although you're a bit feisty. Which brings me to my question: If you're not here to rescue me, or bring me food, what are you doing here? Last time I checked, Peragus wasn't exactly big on the tourists."

Demi thought. "I need information."

He raised his eyebrows, and stood up, pocketing his pazaak cards. "Information, huh? Well, sister, a few days ago I would have said you've come to the right place, but I've been cut off from civilization for so long, _I'm_ the one who needs information. For starters, who are you?"

"What I want to know is," interrupted Demi, "why you're locked up in that cell."

A wry smile spread over the prisoner's face. "Hmph, you have a point there. I'll keep it short so you don't have to hear the story of my life: I got in trouble for smuggling illegal cargo."

"What kind of cargo?"

"The illegal kind."

Demi rolled her eyes. "You know, honestly, I _was_ going to let you out," she swung around the console to get a closer view of him, "but now I think I've changed my mind after all."

"So you're just going to leave me here?"

"It's definitely a possibility."

"All right! Force. All right." He frowned. "What is this, an interrogation?"

"Something like that." Demi moved closer to his Force-field cage. "What's your name?"

"I was wondering when you were going to get to that. Call me Atton."

"Is that really your name, or is that just what you want me to call you?"

Atton smiled, but didn't reply.

"Right," Demi said, gritting her teeth. "Fine. Call me Demi."

"Nice to meet you…_Demi_. I'd shake your hand, but this cage only causes _mild_ electrical burns."

"That's nice. So…why is this place deserted? You said you didn't know?"

"I never said that. Listen, what happened was, some Jedi gets here, and she's unconscious. Some of the miners get it into their skulls that they'd like to collect the bounty on this Jedi's head from the Exchange. Now, some people didn't like that. I heard some explosions, agonizing screams…your ordinary sound-effects when two groups are fighting. Then, like I said, they stopped feeding me. It was all quiet here for a pretty long time. I'm sitting here, playing pazaak by myself, and then you show up half-naked, and things got a whole lot more interesting."

"Thanks for the recap," Demi grimaced.

"Hey, you asked for it. And not that I'm tired of the view from this cage or anything, but I'd really like to get out of here. Someday soon. Like, now. And listen…Demi, right? We could help each other out. You're not getting out of here without me. I know this place like the palm of my hand."

"That's funny, considering you've only seen Peragus from inside this cell."

Atton glared. "What can I say? I'm resourceful. Demi…" He locked eyes with her. "You can trust me, okay? And I'm not just saying that 'cause I need your help getting out. I'm saying it because it's the truth. You let me out, I'll owe you one. We could fly out of here together."

Demi racked her brains for a second. _Can I trust him?_ She'd had more than her share of betrayal before. "Lemme think for a second," she said outloud.

She closed her eyes and mentally reached out to this 'Atton', and into his thoughts. This was a tricky business, but she was curious, and she needed to do this. He wouldn't tell her anything on his own. It was hard to break inside; there was some force restricting her, squirming, blocking her from getting in. Demi was only able to get a glimpse of a very young girl dancing around, when something forcibly pushed her out, and Demi opened her eyes.

Atton was glaring at her. "Nice going, _Jedi_." He spat the word out like it was infectious. "Do you always do this to people you first meet? Worm your way into their brain? Hint of advice…" His voice hardened. "Don't try that stunt again. You wanted to see if you could trust me? Well, I'm seriously doubting as to whether I can trust _you_."

Demi exhaled. "Look, I'm sorry. I just needed to see—"

"Don't," said Atton, breaking her off. "Just forget it."

Demi nodded silently, and headed over to the console. After a few buttons, and a whirring sound, the golden force field was gone, and Atton stepped out.

"Right," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Let's go."

Demi followed him out of the room, to another console. She knew better, but she had to ask…"Who was that little girl I saw?"

"What?" Atton stared at her. "Oh." A hint of a smile spread on his face. "That was my sister."

"Was?"

Atton shook his head, and pointed to the console. "It's all yours."

"All right." Demi activated it, but couldn't help wondering what it was that Atton desperately wanted to keep to himself.

Days, months, weeks passed, and finally after much bickering, Demi and Atton found some common ground with each other. And Atton ended up telling her almost everything about his past…almost. Although he hadn't meant to tell her, it just slipped, and afterwards, it felt natural, like he was supposed to end up telling her after all. But he still couldn't talk about his sister without it hurting a bit. The guilt still came hard.

There was finally peace, or as close to peace as they could get while they fought Sith Lords and the like. And every once in a while, there was the ocassional game of pazaak.

**::.Much, much later.::**

"You," said Demi through gritted teeth, "are pissing me off."

Atton shrugged ruefully. "I try my best."

"Oh, I know you do."

Atton looked at her over his pazaak cards, hiding a smile that had been creeping over his face. "And that," he said with a flourish, laying down another card, "makes twenty."

"I hate you," Demi grumbled, throwing her cards up in the air in defeat.

"No, you don't. But you keep thinking that if it makes you feel better."

"I will, thank you." Demi turned to look out the window. They were in the cockpit now, playing pazaak on the floor as the Ebon Hawk, on auto-pilot, flew along.

"It's not that hard, you know," said Atton, looking at her anxiously as he picked up his precious cards. "And we're even, since you always beat me at sparring."

Demi laughed. "That's true. But I'm just not as good with numbers as you are. I mean, I see what you see, but I don't…see what you see." She finished, and turned to look at him. "Does that make any sense?"

To her surprise, Atton said, "Sure. And I'm flattered. But it's not all just about the numbers, you know. Just think about what you start out with and make the most of it. Think about what you know is waiting for you at the end, and get there. Oh, and practice. Lots. That works too."

Demi cocked her head to one side. "What if your cards don't add up?"

He seemed to think for a moment. "Then…" He stood up, and Demi followed suit. Atton took her hands, and Demi tried to stay composed. She looked down, surprised, to see his card deck in her hands. "Then maybe it's time to find a new deck. Here. I want you to have this. From me to you. This is—was—my old lucky deck; the first one I ever got, when I first started playing. I realized I was pretty good when I played away some poor guy's whole business from him, back when I was about seven. It became my mom's business. It helped us a lot. Anyway…" He ran his hand through his brown hair, a little abashed. "Maybe it will bring you the same luck."

Demi looked up at him, touched, and she realized just how much she didn't really know him. Her green eye and blue eye were sparkling.

"Thanks, Atton. Honestly. I know it meant a lot to you."

He shrugged, but his chocolate brown eyes were twinkling. "This is just my excuse to give you more lessons, you know?"

Demi punched him lightly on the shoulder, she was about to turn away, but Atton grabbed her hand. Turning back, Demi looked down at their hands, then back up at Atton. Then, for just one second, they stood face to face, their noses almost touching. Demi could see the uncertainty in Atton's eyes, yet he still leaned forward. His other hand reached up to brush back a strand of hair from her face, gently. For one second, Demi really thought he was going to kiss her. The moment was there, just waiting to be grabbed. But then…

"Hey!" yelled Mira's voice from far away. "We're landing! You guys ready?"

"We're coming!" Demi called back. She turned back to Atton, a blush creeping into her cheeks. Curse her cheeks. "Well…"

Atton exhaled slowly, then smiled at her and winked. "Let's go."

Together they left the cockpit and headed outside. Demi looked down and realized she was still holding the old, battered deck of cards. Smiling, she pocketed it, and kept it in a place near her heart. Always.

**::.Back to reality.::**

"Hey. Hey! Demi!"

"W-What?"

Demi opened her eyes, and found herself back in Dane's silver hovercar. Leo had been shaking her by the shoulders.

"You fell asleep. Had pleasant dreams?" His eyes twinkled. "We're almost near Dane's house, to rest and get ready. Tomorrow we're taking our flight to Atris, now that the _Hawk _is all well and good, repaired by Grace."

Demi remembered her back in the worshop, giving her a half salute, half wave. The image of Grace with her uncontrollable golden curls, goggles and all, was the last thing Demi saw before she was back above ground.

Now, Leo was staring intently at her. "What were you dreaming about, anyway?"

Were brothers always so nosy? "I wasn't dreaming." Demi looked out the window, remembering Atton's voice back in Peragus. _We could fly out of here together…_ "Just remembering."

* * *

A/N: I just wanted to share some of the old memories of Carth and Elaine, and Demi and Atton, for some backstory. It makes things feel more complete. Ack! Attack of the fluffiness! lol

Update: 4.2.07: The Elaine & Carth portion was extra angstified. ;)


	12. 11: Pardon Me

**Chapter 11 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Pardon Me

"**S**o…you're Ian."

Ian Pace looked up from the hologram he had been reading. "That would be correct." He stood up from the stone bench, tucking the hologram inside his jacket's pocket. Looking up and down at the newcomer, from the brown hair to the familiar facial features, he added, "And if I'm not mistaken, you're Dustil Onasi."

"You're not mistaken." Dustil grinned, and held out his hand. "Nice to meet my dad's secretary."

Ian shook it, with a rather strained smile. His yellow eyes were exhausted and his dark, curly hair was in total disarray. "Right. Nice."

"Man, you can't be any older than me. Feels strange," said Dustil. He glanced around Coruscant's gardens surrounding them, the only wild thing growing on this civilized planet. "I mean, strange in a good way. I guess it's just my queue to get a job too and stop living out of my father's pocket."

"Yeah." Ian's voice was as distant as his mind was.

There was an awkward silence, one that could not really be filled, but one of them tried anyway.

"So…" Dustil said again. "What's it like working for my old man? I hope he's not sending you on too many caffa runs."

"Oh. No, no, it's not too bad. I was actually on my way to give this hologram to him right now." Ian held it up briefly, before tucking it back in his pocket.

"You make it a habit to read somebody's mail first before you deliver it?" Dustil said pointedly.

Ian looked up. "Well, it's sort of my job, you see. Gotta make sure there's no…um…poison, or bombs, or anything remotely harmful in it before I give it to your father."

"Huh. Interesting."

They both started walking through the gardens. The sun was shining, birds—or something that slightly resembled them—were singing, flowers were blooming…but Ian looked anything but relaxed.

"You all right, man?" Dustil asked, glancing sideways at Ian, who was fidgeting with the buttons on his jacket.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he said hurriedly. They had reached the steps to the building, and Ian turned around to face Dustil. "Listen, it's been nice. You know, talking and all, but I've got…a job to do. And I can't…stand around and mingle all day."

Dustil backed up, holding up his hands. "Sure. Sorry. Didn't mean to…force you to mingle, or anything."

Ian ran his fingers through his dark, curly hair, then turned back around and headed into the building.

Dustil was left on the steps, wondering what had just happened.

"That is one tense guy," he reasoned, before heading in the opposite direction.

**::.Carth's office.::**

"Sir?" Ian's voice reverberated around the room. "Are you here?"

Suddenly, around the corner, came Carth. Apparently, Ian had interrupted him from his….shaving.

"Oh, hey, Ian." Carth half-laughed, half of his face covered in shaving cream. "You have nice timing."

Ian looked abashed. "Sorry, sir."

"Hey, no worries. And what have we said about calling me sir?"

Ian looked at the floor. "Oh. That. Right."

Carth peered at Ian curiously. "You all right? You seem a little…tired."

"So do you." Ian was looking at the dark circles under his boss' eyes.

"Just slept a little late. Hold on a second." Carth disappeared around the corner again, and when he came back, was clean and new. "That's better. So, is everything all right?"

"Got a letter for you." Ian reached inside his jacket and took out the hologram. "It's from Demi."

Carth took it at once.

"'_Admiral Carth,'"_ he read.

"'_Just wanted to let you know that Leo and I are making progress…in a round-about sort of way. A lot has happened, but we were able to find out that after Elaine left Deralia, she went to visit Atris. We don't know why yet, but we have a vague idea as to where Atris currently is, and we're on our way there. Till then… _

'"–_Demia Thress.'"_

"'_P.S. Don't you just love saving the world from indestructible immortal evil?'"_

Carth looked up. "That's good news. Except for the, um, indestructible evil part. Thank you, Ian."

Ian nodded briskly. He was about to leave, but at the doorframe, held back. "Er…Mr. Onasi?"

"What can I do for you, Ian?" _Just call me Carth…_ he begged inwardly.

"I'm not who you think I—" Ian closed his mouth, cleared his throat, then dropped his gaze to the floor. "Never mind."

"What do you mean by—Are you sure—?"

But with a swoosh of his jacket behind him, Ian was gone.

**::.Vincentii's Headquarters, ventilation system.::**

There was something about working his way through ventilation pipes that Atton just didn't like. Maybe it was the almost-no-space-to-breathe part (which was funny, considering the pipes were supposed to carry oxygen), or maybe the no-fun-crawling-on- hands-and-knees part, but Atton was dealing. That was what he did best. It was hard, though. Atton just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible so he could ask Griff and Brianna some questions and clear some things up.

"If you have questions," whispered Brianna, in front of him, "now is really not the time."

"I'm aware of that," Atton hissed back.

"Good," was her reply.

Atton shook his head as though to clear his thoughts, but kept trudging on. After many minutes though, the tunnel they were crawling through felt like it was choking Atton, closing him on all sides. Tensions and tempers were running high.

"Just a little farther," Griff said back to them, as they turned around a right corner.

"That's what you said ten minutes ago," said Atton.

"I mean it this time."

"You better," Atton muttered under his breath.

Finally, they reached the end of the passageway. There was a fan that gave off a deafening noise, and a little grate near Griff.

"Anybody have a screwdriver?" he called back.

"What?" asked Atton, over the tumult.

"A screwdriver!"

"No…Something better." Atton threw his laser to Griff.

"This'll work," Griff said, and set to work. He had almost finished melting the edges of the grate so that they could easily take it off, when the grate fell through. It slammed against the lockers directly beneath it, echoing around the room and rattling the contents inside, and then crashed with a sickening, _loud_ sound to the floor below. Brianna had tried to grab it in time, but had been too late.

_Nothing like a loud grate dropping to the floor to start a party and let everyone know we're here,_ thought Atton.

"Oops," Griff whispered, throwing the laser back to Atton, who fought a strong urge to roll his eyes.

"That's an understatement."

"We still have to go down there though," said Brianna quietly. "All of your equipment is there."

They dropped down to the top of the lockers beneath them, then climbed down. Griff disabled a security cam, and Atton and Brianna searched through all the lockers.

"Score," said Atton, taking out his weapons, pazaak cards, and other random things of his possession. In the last locker, they found Griff's bag, which he slung over his shoulder.

They all crept to the door, and Atton looked out. "Nobody out here."

"That's what you think." Griff grabbed Atton's collar, and shut the door. "I have a map. We should get back in the ventilation system and make our way out. We'll be less easily detected that way."

"But look at your bag," said Atton, gesturing at it. "It's heavy, loaded, and bound to make a lot of noise up there. I'd rather fight our way out of here. I am extremely ticked off at whoever brought me here and tied me up. I think a few pistols to the head should teach them a lesson." _Or a lightsaber to the skull…_ he said inwardly.

"Don't be rash," argued Brianna. "Griff is right. It's our safest plan out of here. Earlier, I followed the guards to where they kept you, and I had a tough time staying out of sight. Believe it or not, the security here is very tight. We need to get back up there." She pointed to the ventilation system.

"Fine," sighed Atton. "I'm outnumbered. But if I come across any employee from this damn place, I'm not holding anything back."

"Agreed. Now give me a boost." Brianna was halfway into the system, when three guards suddenly kicked the door open with a bang. They were all carrying blaster rifles.

"Told you I heard something," one of the guards said to the other. "We've got you cornered. Drop your weapons, get back on the ground, and keep your hands where we can see them."

The other guard grinned at Griff, but it wasn't the least bit friendly. "I knew the minute you first stepped into this place that we should have killed you. You're a traitor, Griff. That's all you'll ever be."

Griff sighed, almost regretfully. "I know, I know. I really am just a horrible person. But unlike you, I'm going to get over it and get myself a life."

In a flash, he knocked away the guard's rifle and pinned him to the ground. Atton slammed a guard into the wall, and attempted to take the rifle away from him. They wrestled for a moment, until Brianna took her spear and thrust it into the guard's side.

Atton stepped back from the now limp body, as the last remaining guard took his rifle, and shot twice at Atton. Luckily, in time, Atton pushed the rifle up towards the ceiling, and kneed the guy in the stomach hard. The guard fell unconscious.

"Hurry," he whispered. "Help me out here."

They put the bodies into the lockers, slammed them shut, and climbed on top of the lockers to get back in the vents.

"Somebody will have heard the guard's shots," said Brianna.

"We're going to head to the back lobby," said Griff quietly.

"Back lobby?" questioned Atton.

"It's the back entrance to this place, and has a lift up back to the cantina that we could take."

Again, they spent about ten agonizing minutes in the vents. Time seemed to move much slower up there. Then, from the front, Brianna put a hand up to stop them.

"Don't move and be quiet," she ordered.

Atton looked down. Beneath them in a large room were about ten guards, looking at something on a console. In front of the guards was a large kolto tank, shimmering with a light blue-ish light. He was able to see the logo of Vincentii: It was a glowing blue V followed by two 'i's that were blended together to look like a wave.

"His DNA is being copied," said the worker at the console. "In about ten seconds, we'll have ourselves another clone. A stronger clone."

There was a voice on the loudspeaker saying formulas and orders Atton couldn't make heads nor tails of. The console was making strange beeping noises.

"This is a new secret model," the worker continued. "You are some of the privileged allowed to see this new experiment. These ones are stronger and smarter. Not like the dumb clones of regular people who get themselves killed in five minutes flat. And for the regular human clones…they are now smarter and can think for themselves and impersonate their old owner better. The clones can be programmed to have the memories of who they once were. The original copy will be brainwashed to our thinking as well. This is the first time we are trying this out….We have to thank Griff Vao for this. His support and test results were so crucial in this process, and he was just _dying_ to give it to us." The guards laughed, and in the vent, Griff hung his head. "And now, you will meet our warrior, the one, or _ones_ I should say, who will lead us into Nausuma…"

The kolto tank's cover slid open. Brianna gasped. A monstrous looking, seven-foot tall creature stepped out. He looked oddly reptile like, but stood on two feet. His slits of eyes glowed yellow. He would undoubtedly be able to take on five of the guards and slam them into the wall, but of course, he didn't.

And then, _another_ creature just like that stepped out. He growled viciously and together, both creatures roared.

"We're going to get them into the lab to conduct more research," the worker said. "They listen to our orders because that is how we programmed them. With luck, on the Ascension Day when we send _thousands_ of them into Nausuma, we will get what we deserve, and we will drink…"

There were cheers.

"What DNA was copied for this new model?" asked one of the guards.

The worker grinned wickedly. "Ready for this? _Gizka_ DNA."

"Holy…" whispered Atton. "_Gizkas?!_ Isn't that animal cruelty? What is wrong with these sick people? And why do they keep mentioning _you_?" he said to Griff. "You were working with these people?!"

"Atton," said Brianna warningly. "Later."

She started to resume her crawling through the vent, when suddenly, Atton's dispatcher in his pocket crackled loudly. He was so alarmed that he dropped it, and it fell with a clattering bang on the floor of the vent. Immediately, all the guards looked up.

"It's the prisoners! They're trying to escape! Shoot them!" yelled the worker.

"You know, I really hate that guy," whispered Atton. Brianna, Griff, and Atton were going as fast as they could through the vent now, not bothering to stay quiet. The guards' shots bounced off the vents, but one lucky shot could get through the holes in the vent and hurt one of them badly.

"Hurry!" Brianna yelled back.

Finally, they reached the part of the vents where they were hidden and weren't as vulnerable to getting hit.

"How do we get to the back lobby?" Atton panted, clutching a stitch in his side.

"Just a little farther," Griff said. Atton gave him a pained look. "For real, this time. Just a few more turns and we'll be out of here."

"I got in through the lift they have in the back lobby," Brianna added. "We're going to have to drop down behind the receptionist's desk, steal the passkey so we have access to the lift…"

"…and jet," Atton finished.

"That's the idea."

They passed over the cargo room, filled with boxes marked _Clarande-V_.

"Brianna, what does—"

"Not now, Atton."

He sighed. "Of course. Should have known."

"They're empty," said Griff, looking back at Atton. "But I thought Leo had taken the only bottle of Clarande-V with him…He must have forgotten one and Vincentii reproduced it…They said the clones were strong but they never said anything about a longer lasting life…"

Griff was obviously lost in his own train of thought now, and Atton didn't bother asking.

Just then, an alarm started blaring.

"They're going to be closing down all exits," Brianna whispered.

"So, what's the plan now?"

Griff stopped moving. "Their consoles. If we _do_ manage to get into the lift in one piece, they're going to use the security override on their consoles to shut down the lifts, and we'll be trapped again. We need to hack into their system so we can prevent that."

"I'll work on getting the passkey," Atton said quietly. "Griff, you handle the system. You seem to be familiar with things here." He said that part a little venomously, but he couldn't help it. "Brianna, you whup any guards that get too close. Is this the plan?"

"It'll do," Brianna sighed. She didn't voice out loud that it seemed flawed. "But there are too many of them…"

Suddenly, she brightened. "We need a distraction. Something big. Something to get them off our backs while we disable the security and get the passkey. Any ideas?"

She looked at the both of them and they all racked their brains.

"Overload," Griff said suddenly.

Atton raised his eyebrows. "Over-what?"

"Overload," Griff grinned. "All their chemicals in their labs…From the console we should be able to hack into the program that controls how many chemicals run through the kolto tanks. These chemicals are the ones that keep those kolto tanks running. And we'll change the amount of chemicals to something huge."

"Isn't that…dangerous?" asked Brianna.

"Oh, no way. Nah, it just pretty much destroys all the kolto tanks and crashes the glass and sets loose the half-asleep-still-not-matured clones of all kinds walking around like zombies all around Vincentii and the guards will be so busy trying to get them under control…"

"Okay, wise guy," Atton said, holding up his hand to stop Griff. "It sounds like it just might work."

"I'm going to have to try to hold all of the guards back while Griff hacks into the system," Brianna said. "Atton, the passkey should be in one of the drawers. That's where they keep them for visitors."

Atton was still wondering who would want to actually _visit_ this place of their own free will, when they reached the grate that dropped to right behind the receptionist's desk. Luckily, the receptionist wasn't anywhere around.

Quietly, Griff used the laser again to melt away the sides of the grate, but this time took more care in making sure it didn't crash to the floor. Placing the grate softly on the other side of the vent, Griff, Brianna, and Atton all dropped to the ground.

They all hurried to their posts: Griff to the console, Brianna on guard, Atton rummaging through the office.

"Where is everyone?" he wondered out loud.

"They probably thought we'd take the front lobby. But don't worry. They'll be here soon," Brianna said.

"Can't wait," Atton said dryly. Using his laser again, he melted away a lock, to find a passkey buried behind some files. It was a thin blue card with Vincentii's logo displayed on it.

"Got it!" he said.

Just then, a Vincentii guard came running to the desk. "They're here!" he yelled. "In the back—" Before he could so much as get another syllable out of his mouth, Brianna knocked him over the head and he fell to the floor.

"I always knew those guys had weak skulls," said Griff.

"They'll be here even sooner," was all Brianna said. "Griff, how's your progress?"

"I'm hacking into their lab systems. I already shut down the power of the main console, so they we won't get stuck in the lift. But I can't quite seem to remember the password…It's something with Wookiee in its name. WookieeRookiee…Naw, that can't be it. WookieLookie…Wookie…"

"Well, find something that rhymes fast. We got company." Atton leapt from the desk, and finally unsheathed his yellow lightsaber.

He ran beside Brianna, and they fought back to back at the guards who came nearby. Two came at once at Atton, but Atton blocked both of their attacks, then used Force-push to slam them into the wall. Brianna looked over. _I knew it…I knew he was a Jedi,_ she said inwardly.

_I heard that,_ Atton said telepathically to her, startling her. He jumped, and twisted a guard's neck swiftly with his feet, and the guard's neck cracked. Atton jumped back to his feet. _Now, I suggest you tell me how you knew my name was Jaq._

Brianna angrily fought off three guards at once who were trying to get to Griff, taking her staff and hitting them hard with one stroke, so they fell down like dominos. _If you haven't noticed, I'm rather busy at the moment…_ But she felt Atton's frustration. So she started explaining.

_Long ago we met. Before the Mandalorian wars. Revan and Malak were there, to speak to you and all the other troops, to try to motivate you. My father, my sisters, and I were supposed to help with your training, teaching you how to use an Echani staff, how to defend yourself using the Echani martial arts. My sisters were…treating me the way they usually do. I was such a little girl then. I was crying. And you comforted me._

She could still feel Atton's presence in her mind, listening. _You told me your name. Jaq Notta Rand. I still remember. And I told you I was the Handmaiden. And then you left. That's all._

She elbowed a guard in the ribs, and kicked the guard behind her. Bodies were collecting all around her. _I recognized you, there in the cantina. I was sent on a mission by Atris to watch the movements of those from Vincentii. I heard the cantina was a popular place for them to find new people to use as…clones. A remote cantina, with people who are either forgotten or trying to get away from their own demons. I never knew that directly underneath the cantina was their headquarters. And yes, I recognized you. I followed them all the way here, where they kept you tied up. And here we are now._

_So that was you,_ said Atton, amazed. _Not just in the training before the Mandalorian Wars, but in the cantina. You were the one wearing the hood, watching me from the corner._

_Yes,_ Brianna admitted. _That was me._

_Well, hint from the wise: Staring at people like that is just plain creepy. Turns people off. Don't do that again._

Brianna sighed and rolled her eyes as she fought to keep the tides of guards hindered. _Of course, I wasn't expecting a thank you, or anything._

Atton softened. _I guess we're even now. For helping each other out._

_I guess so._

But they weren't able to say anything else, because, suddenly, Griff yelled, "I have it! WookieeCookie!" And he entered something on the console.

Immediately, another alarm started blaring. Lights were whirling. Guards froze in their motions, as they listened to the recorded voice on the loudspeaker.

"Chemical. Overload," said the smooth, female computer voice. "Overload level: 50. Overload level: 70. Emergency. Serious damage will be done to subjects in kolto tanks if chemicals are not lowered. Overload level: 99."

Everyone held their breath.

"Clones-in-progress have now broken free. Have a great day."

All around, there was the sound of breaking glass. Radios were dispatching messages back and forth. Things were chaotic. For a moment, Atton, Brianna, and Griff were forgotten. But then, an officer got in charge.

"All of you, get the clones under control! Scientists, set the newly made, stronger clones on these intruders!" He pointed at Atton, Brianna, and Griff.

"Atton!" yelled Brianna. "Passkey! Door! Now!"

Atton sprinted down to the lift, and inserted the passkey in the slot.

"Password," said the automated computer voice. "Please."

"Frack!" said Atton, jamming his fist into the keypad angrily.

"Atton! No!" cried Brianna. She whirled to Griff. "What is the password?!"

"This one is different. It's 1-2-7-4—"

But he got cut off.

Directly behind them, came two of the stronger clones who had just been made. The ground rumbled with each of their steps, and they stood about two feet higher than any of them. Their malicious eyes glowed yellow, with a strange, artificial feel. Half reptile, half something else, they started charging at Atton, Brianna, and Griff.

They were able to dodge out of the way just in time. Completely unfazed, the clones ganged up on Brianna. Brianna, with a determined spark in her eye, took her staff and plunged the sharp point into one of the clones. Or tried to. Before she even got near hurting him, the clone grabbed her staff and snapped it in half. Brianna gave a half-cry, half-gasp.

She tried to slide between, under, and through one of their scaly legs, but it pulled her back up, and slammed her against the wall, then held her there. The other started pummeling her in the face.

"Hey! Gizka Boy!" yelled Atton. Both of the clones immediately turned around, dropping Brianna roughly to the ground, where she stayed.

Griff threw two plasma grenades at each of them, and plugged his ears. Atton dove in and got Brianna by the elbow, and supported her to the lift. Griff quickly punched in the rest of the password, and the lift doors opened. The quickly scurried in, but one of the clones got there fast. He slammed his arms out, jamming the doors of the lift, denting the metal.

Thinking quickly, Atton took out his laser and aimed it right at the clone's eye.

Then pushed the button.

The clone howled in agony, and let go of the doors, clutching his eye. The other clone tried to stop the lift, but was too late.

The lift started to ascend, and all three of them exhaled in relief.

They had escaped.

Atton knelt down to Brianna, who was trying to stand and regain her pride, but hurt too badly. There was blood all over her face.

"It's okay," whispered Atton. "You can rest. It's a long way up." He turned to Griff. "Any bandages?"

Griff just nodded, and got them out of his green bag.

"Are you all right?" asked Atton.

Finally, Brianna spoke. "They…broke…my staff. _Bastards._"

That was the first time in her life that she had ever used that word. Sure, she had thought it, but never spoken it out loud. These two must be a bad influence on her.

Atton tried not to grin, hearing those thoughts. "She's back, all right."

There was an unspeakable feeling between the three of them, these three people who hardly knew each other and had yet barely gotten free of one of the most powerful corporations in their universe. They shared something now, a bond that they would never speak of, but which presence they knew was there.

Finally, and not a moment too soon, Atton, Griff, and Brianna headed up and back to the surface. They evaded the rest of the guards waiting for them up top, exited the cantina, grabbed a shuttle, and flew away.

**::.Deralia, Dane's house.::**

Demi breathed out onto the window, and a fine mist spread over it, completing the mystical scene she could see from her window. The sun was setting, and the moons—yes, plural—were rising. Demi drew a small star on the window with her index finger, feeling oddly relaxed.

_I wish I knew how to paint,_ she thought. _I want to keep this in my memory forever._

She stayed there, sitting by the windowsill for a few minutes, just savoring the last moments until she knew the journey had to go on. Then, she sighed, a suddenly very depressing thought occurring to her. Wherever you went, you were supposed to be able to take comfort in the fact that, even if you and someone else got separated, you were always looking at the same sky, the same moon, and the same stars. But it wasn't the case this time.

Glumly, Demi got up, and picked up her new bag Dane had given her. It was filled with med pacs and food rations to last a few weeks. Also, around Demi's wrist was a silver bracelet, much like Dane's. Leo also had been given one.

"It'll be useful for wherever you go around the galaxy," Dane had insisted. "It'll ensure more trust between whoever you encounter."

"Hopefully," Demi said, but she had smiled. Dane really was a good friend. Demi had filled her in on their mission to find Elaine. Maybe, after all this was over, she'd come back and get to know Dane better.

Demi had packed everything. She was ready for another journey. Grace had told her that she had found Demi's lightsaber. It was broken, but the crystal was still intact. So Demi would have to start over and rebuild it. So what? It was no big.

Then why did she feel as though she was leaving something behind?

Then it hit her. The peaceful life. Just a quiet, enjoyable life by the sea and the country. That was all Demi wanted, all she had ever wanted. Everything in her life was rushed. She was always moving, never settling down. She didn't even really have a home anymore. She would have gone back to Dantooine, back to the Jedi Academy, back to learning under Master Kavar's guidance…Only the Academy wasn't there anymore. And Master Kavar was dead. It seemed everybody was these days. Inside, if nothing else.

_I'll come back here,_ Demi vowed. _If I'm still alive, and things are finally over, I'll come back here. Dane will be my neighbor and the predictable, quiet days will pass one by one and I'll learn how to paint and do things I've always wanted to do but never had the time to do before…_

Demi sighed. If only, if only.

"Come on, Dem!" called Leo from the door, and Demi forced a smile. Leo had a nickname for her nickname, just as others sometimes did. She wouldn't be surprised if she was going to be called 'D' soon.

"I'm coming!" Demi yelled back, slung her pack over her shoulder, strode to the door, and opened it.

And Atton was standing there.

Demi felt like taking a step back. This couldn't be real. But he was here. Close enough to touch. His frame filled the doorway, and a crooked smile was on his face as usual. He was here. Reassuring, comforting…here.

And she wasn't sure whether to hit him, hug him, ignore him, say something, act furious…She just didn't know anything anymore.

"I thought," Demi said slowly, "that—"

"—by leaving me all alone on Coruscant while you sped off into Force-knows-where with the ship I've been flying for almost a year, that, and the fact that you were under the impression that I actually enjoyed the aristocratic life; that that was enough for me to just let you go off and kill yourself or worse?" Atton smiled grimly. "No, Demi. I don't think so."

"You're impossible," Demi said, but she was smiling slightly.

"That I am," Atton agreed. "And word is, I'm also confusing, but I've been through poison, captivity, and near death, so it would be really great if you would just accept this for what it is. Reality. And I'm not going anywhere."

Demi looked down for a moment, and when she looked up, her eyes were shining. "You're not one for staying behind, are you?"

"You knew that, Dem," Atton said softly, seriously. "And look, maybe here, with you, that's the last place you want me to be. And I know that you already have HK and T3 and you're not really looking to make this into a full-out, huge crew expedition, but the truth is, you feel like you're going through this alone, don't you? Even with them around."

"This isn't—this isn't the way it's supposed to be."

"Is anything ever the way it's supposed to be?"

Demi thought on that. "No. No, it never is."

"So maybe that's the way it's supposed to be."

Demi looked at him, amused. "You're a philosopher, now? You're just trying to get my head spun again."

Atton shrugged ruefully. "Maybe." He grinned. "Probably. Most likely, actually."

Demi shook her head and sighed. "I guess I can't just send you back, can I? After all you said you had to do to get here."

Atton smiled wryly. "Yes, that would go somewhere under the label of 'rude.'"

Finally, Demi full-out laughed. And not knowing what else to do, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged a surprised Atton.

"You are insane," Demi decided. "But maybe, maybe you're right."

But over her shoulder, Atton's brown eyes turned into a deep, menacing yellow and glowed. And his lips curled upwards in a smirk.

_She's a fool,_ the clone thought.

* * *

A/N: Mwa haha.

Because of Chapter 25 (which I have not uploaded—yet), I'm going to have to re-write the scene w/ Dane and 'Jaq,' which I admit I rushed by. Kudos. :)


	13. 12: Family Ties

**Chapter 12 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Family Ties

**A**tton could still see her now. Laughing, dancing barefoot all around. She had had the most beautiful gray eyes in the world.

"Tell me a story, Atton!" she would say.

That had been her name for him…Atton. Elle had turned his middle name backwards, and from then on, Atton had been his new secret nickname for her.

Atton had laughed and shook his head. "Stories? I don't know any."

"But it's what big brothers are supposed to do!" she had insisted. "I'm sure of it. I've read about them."

Elle, short for Gabrielle, Atton's little sister, had had fiery red hair, gleaming in the sun. Her eyes still held the innocence and wonder many children lose as they go through this crazy thing called life. In an odd way, Atton was glad that she had never lost it, those glittering gray eyes. When she had died, there was still a little spark left, and she took that spark with her to heaven, or wherever those who pass away go.

"I could make one up, if that counts," Atton had offered.

"It'll do." Elle lay herself on the grass, and propped herself up on her elbows to hear the story.

"Right. Well, er, once upon a time, in a far away galaxy…" Atton thought desperately for some ideas. Elle looked up expectantly. "Well, you've heard this one before. So here goes. There was once a planet, far, far away. And it was called Nausuma."

"Nausuma?" Elle gasped.

"That's right. And in it, it is said there is a magical fountain where water flows through. But this water isn't just normal water. If you drink it, it will make you immortal…" Atton started using hand gestures and changing his voice, anything to get Elle laughing.

A spectator from far away would just notice a young teenage boy entertaining his little sister with a story. And maybe that's what it was. But these stories, told regularly and so often, led them to want more than the small world in which they lived in. They wanted to go out and see the world.

"We're so small," Elle had said one day. "We live in such a small planet and the rest of the universe is so big. It's scary." She gazed up at her brother. "Why is it like that?"

"I guess so we learn that we're not as important as we think. The planet doesn't always revolve around us."

"Duh! Of course not! It revolves around the sun! Well, most do, anyway."

Atton lifted her up and gave her a piggy-back all the way back to the house.

"Jaq!" his mother called from inside. "There's someone here to see you."

Elle giggled. "She doesn't know that I have dubbed you Atton. Jaq Notta Rand, dubbed Atton by the very bee-yoo-tee-full sister Elle."

"It's our little secret," Atton grinned.

Inside the house, a very official looking soldier stood. He stood taller than Atton, even taller than his mom, and he was wearing a blue uniform, complete with many badges and awards of honor. Atton set Elle down.

"What's going on?" asked Atton, looking at the soldier apprehensively. He didn't trust newcomers. Or any men that came to see him mom, really. Not after the way his father had just up and left them. "Isn't it a little early for the parade?"

"Jaq, be polite," scolded his mother, taking him by the hand and placing him in front of her, holding him by the shoulders. "This is Lieutenant Norrington. He's here to…Oh, Jaq. He's here to take you away." His mother wrung her hands despairingly. "I'm so sorry. I though I had planned out how to tell you. Calmly, rationally, sensibly. But I kept putting it off. I just can't…"

"What?" Atton stepped back disbelievingly. His gaze swept from the stern Lieutenant Norrington to his mother, a petite brunette who had worked hard all her life. "Oh! Ha. I get it. You're kidding, right? You're really just getting married to him, and you want me to _think_ that you're giving me away to a complete stranger, just so I won't take your marriage too hard and learn that there are worse things. That I should be grateful. Right?"

He looked at his mother. A tear dropped down her cheek. "You must understand. There wasn't anything left to do. The store has been supporting us, by a thread! I'm running out of credits to pay our taxes. An official came by to see me the other day and said the only way we won't be kicked off is if we send a son to their academy."

"You've deserted me," said Atton slowly. "Just like Dad did. You're just like him."

"No! I just—" She tried to step closer to hug her son.

"No!" He brushed her away roughly. "Don't touch me! I don't want to see you ever again."

"Son," said Lieutenant Norrington. "She's only doing what's right. The Academy isn't so bad. You'll be a soldier. Stronger than anyone else. I've heard that you'd like to go out and see the rest of the galaxy. You'll have a chance to. You'll be saving the world, defending the Republic. You'd be a hero."

"You don't tell me what to be, or what not to be!" Atton shouted right in the Lieutenant's face. "You don't just come in here, and tell us what to do! You don't know the first damn thing about us! So you don't come waltzing in here like you did. Do you hear me? You don't belong here! So get the hell away from us!"

"Atton…" said Elle quietly.

"We're leaving, Elle." He took her hand. "Good-bye, Mother. I'm sorry that you never loved me enough. I'm sorry I'm like garbage to you. A burden. You know, the garbage that just builds up until you can't stand it, and you keep wondering if maybe you should just leave it out for someone to take it away." He averted his eyes. "That's all I am to you, isn't it? Whatever. I don't even care. Come on, Elle!"

He kicked open the door, and carrying his sister, strode through it, leaving home.

Atton turned back once, but only to speak to the Lieutenant. "I'm also sorry for you, sir. That's got to be the most stupid uniform I've ever seen on the ugliest human being."

And he ran away.

"I did it because I loved you," his mother whispered back from the house. She could literally feel her heart breaking in two. "You deserve something better than this life."

Years later, Atton would hear himself repeating the same thing, about the Jedi who had caused him to see the world another way. _I killed her because I loved her._

Lieutenant Norrington had rushed after Atton and Elle, but they had both disappeared from sight, having taken a shuttle to some other planet far away.

However, after living on the streets for about a year, Atton could see that Elle was slowly dying. Atton could now see that he had only been thinking about himself. Taking Elle away from their mother, refusing to go with Norrington. He decided it was time he smartened up.

"Elle," he said softly to her. Her inquisitive, gray eyes looked up.

"What is it? Do you have a story to tell me?"

"Sort of." Atton exhaled. "There was once an older brother who had the most wonderful little sister. They escaped from the evil soldier, but left their mother behind. The older brother decided that he had been just plain stupid and had made a mistake. So they decided to turn themselves in."

Elle inhaled. "Are you saying, no more hiding? No more trash bins? I'll see Momma again?"

Atton sighed. "Yeah. I guess I am."

Elle let her breath out. "I think that's a very noble thing for you to do, Sir Atton Rand. I want you to know that I love you very much. You're my big brother, no matter what. Promise?"

"I don't even need to promise. We both know it. It goes without saying."

Atton picked her up again and carried her, just like they used to do always. She was getting heavier now. She was growing up. Atton and Elle went out of the dark alley, and into the light.

**::.Much later.::**

A lot had happened. Atton had joined the Republic and had become a soldier. And then Revan won against the Mandalorians, and Atton joined her out of loyalty. Revan became Darth Revan and he became her Sith assassin, hunting down Jedi, and breaking them till they joined their cause. He was at the top, the elite, and the most expert at what to do. He set out what he had been ordered to do and did it well.

And he was no longer Atton.

He was Jaq.

Elle, wherever she was, if she had seen him, would not have recognized him. Not anymore. Not the way he was now.

"You make me proud," said Darth Revan one day, trailing her hand along the room's wall. She was beautiful in the darkest way. Her deep red eyes were nothing like Elle's. They shined dangerously. She was the jewel of the Dark Side. A spell that tortured Jaq's mind and made him wish for more. "You have come far. And you have joined me. Just like I knew you would."

"It was inevitable. I would have joined you sooner or later," said Jaq, kneeling down before her.

Darth Revan's curly dark hair shadowed her face. "You are young. You are full of energy. You are ready." She kneeled down so she was face to face with Jaq. "I am sending you on a most dangerous assignment. I am sending you after a very powerful Jedi. I am sending you to _kill_ her. She is too far down the wrong path to see clearly. Of course, a little torture wouldn't hurt either. But I am warning you, she will haunt you. She will shock you with her kindness. She will try to break _you_." She leaned in close to Jaq's ear. "You will not let her, will you, pet?"

Jaq stared blankly ahead. "It will be her who breaks. I swear it."

Revan smiled maliciously. "That is what I love to hear." Revan stood up suddenly. "Go now. Do not return unless you have done as I have commanded. And then…when you come back…we will talk about your future. You have brought us great honor. See that it continues. Or else…" She lingered by Jaq's side, and whispered into his ear, "Do not bother coming back at all." She chuckled and withdrew.

Jaq traveled with a purpose toward his next destination. He still felt Revan's presence all around him. It was only her who clouded his thoughts.

His next target was also beautiful. She walked with the lightest step and her face showed only innocence. She wore white, and on her belt was her lightsaber. Jaq was the shadow behind her, careful to stay out of sight.

She started running, as though she could feel his presence. Jaq went after her, gaining speed. The corner turned onto a busy street. Jaq looked around. The figure in white had disappeared into the city crowd.

Cursing, Jaq decided to try his next approach. He learned where the Jedi was staying, a small run-down place. Cheap and dirty. Jaq spat on the door of it. Then, he got ready. In his civilian clothes, he got out his dagger, and cut himself on the side of his forehead. The blood poured down his face.

Pleased, he pushed open the door and began the theatrics.

"Help!" he screamed into the house. "Anybody!"

The manager of the place came running in. From the corner of his eye, Jaq saw the Jedi sitting on a chair in the next room, watching the scene.

"Help," Jaq whispered, breaking down. "I couldn't do anything. They were all over the place. Black robes. Red…lightsabers. They…they struck me. Told me the worst things." Shivering, he looked into the manager's eyes, who looked frightened. "I think they wanted me to join their cause. I would never do anything of the sort, believe me. I'd rather die!"

"That seems to be what you're doing now," said the manager. "I'll call the healers."

"No," said the Jedi woman, walking over, her red hair flowing behind her. "Thank you. I'll take care of this. I know how to heal people. I'd do much better than those at the healing places. Kolto tanks will not do the trick on this one. Trust me." She smiled at the manager, who nodded, and went back to work.

Looking into Jaq's eyes, she said softly, "I have all my healing supplies in my room. Well, most." She smiled coyly. "Close your eyes."

"It hurts…too much."

But he did it anyway. The Jedi stood on her tip-toes, and pressed her cool palm on his bleeding forehead. She didn't say anything. Then suddenly, an emanating feeling of relief came over his mind. The bleeding had stopped, but the gash was still there.

"That should do for now. Follow me."

Jaq tried to recall Revan's words. _She will haunt you. She will shock you with her kindness. She will try to break _you. Jaq shook away the feeling of peacefulness she had just instilled within him as the Jedi took his hands and led him into her room.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I think…I'll live. I'm indebted to you."

She smiled. "But now. I need you to tell me everything that happened from beginning to end. Those figures that cornered you a while ago, were Sith."

"So I thought. They deserve to die," Jaq said venomously.

"Don't say that," said the Jedi reproachfully. "I think, with the right words and displays of kindness, they will be able to work their way to redemption. It will be hard, but worth it. It will be for the better cause." She quieted. "You're different from others," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"Yes. You are. You have the Force in you. It channels through you so strongly. We have much to talk about." Speechlessly, Jaq watched her. "I'm going to go get some more bandages," she said, disappearing into the next room. "The bleeding's stopped but there's no way to tell if—"

She came back. Jaq was nowhere in sight. "Where are you?"

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her mouth from behind, and she tried in vain to get free. Hand cuffs snapped over her wrists.

"You're such a pretty thing," whispered Jaq in her ear. "I'd hate to do this to you." He paused, listening to her squeals. "But that doesn't mean I won't."

Roughly, he threw her on the bed. The Jedi suddenly kicked him hard in the face and tried to run away. Jaq recovered quickly, blocking her path.

"Well, you're a feisty thing, aren't you?" The Jedi tried to get by him, get back to the doors. Jaq blocked her way, enjoying this thoroughly. Fear shone in her eyes. "I love it that way."

"I'd love it more if you were dead!" the Jedi yelled.

"Oh, now, what happened to the—" He started mimicking her words. "'With the right words and displays of kindness, they will be able to work their way to redemption.'" Jaq laughed coldly. "Did you even ever think for once in your miserable life that…maybe we don't want redemption?"

"But it's not too late for you!"

"Okay, now I'm starting to get tired of you. I think I'd like to get this over with." Jaq pushed her back down on the bed, and placed his knees firmly on other side of her so she couldn't escape. Her wrists were already bleeding from the hand cuffs.

"You have the Force in you!" she cried. "I know you do. It's like a current. You're powerful. But you need to use it for the right thing. Those Sith that you're with? They probably already know this, and have kept that information from you. I think they're scared of you."

"And aren't they right to be!"

"They will take you away and they will make you their puppet. They will break you."

"Funny. I seem to have heard the same thing about you."

"Do you think, even for a moment, that after you finish with me they wouldn't hesitate to make you a Dark Jedi? Make you work for them? Then you'd be a Jedi. And you despise that thought."

"Newsflash! I already work for them. It's my choice, for the greater cause, as you so quaintly put it. Secondly, I wouldn't be anything like you. I wouldn't be a pitiful, do-gooder Jedi. I'd be stronger than you. I _am_ stronger than you!"

"That's what you think," the Jedi said quietly. "But you have ever so much to learn."

"Yet another newsflash!" He leaned closer to her. "I'm not the one handcuffed and held down to the bed right now, am I?"

He grabbed her and slammed her against the other wall. The Jedi gasped in pain, but refused to give in.

"You don't see the world like you could," she whispered, her voice raspy. "You see it as your enemy."

"And you're saying it could be—what, my friend?" Jaq chuckled. "Oh, but you have ever so much to learn."

He strode over to her.

"That's something else too," she said quietly. "You repeat everything I say. Can't you think for yourself? Or have they completely brainwashed you already?"

He clamped his hand over her throat, and she struggled. "I would take out the duct tape by now, but fortunately for you, I'm still in the mood to see your charming lips. However, not so eager to hear them speak again." He took out a dagger, and her eyes widened. "It's okay if you scream, though." His grin widened. "I'm perfectly fine with that."

More than an hour later, the Jedi was broken. Her cheeks were tear-stained, her clothes torn, her hair matted, her face bloody.

"I still think you have hope," she managed to choke out, as Jaq tied her to the chair using rope.

"Bored now," Jaq said quietly. "I think it's time to extinguish what little life you have left, what do you say?"

"If you do that," she said, "you will have to live with it for the rest of your life. Me, and all that I say and stand for will haunt you till eternity."

"Do you really think you're my first kill?" Jaq said, flaring up instantly. "I've had experience more than what you have ever dreamed. In fact, I'm in a good mood today. I've been going easy on you. You should consider yourself way lucky than all my other conquests." He leaned closer, enough to smell the fragrant smell of her hair. "My last one was not even dead when I buried her alive."

"You don't scare me," the Jedi said, tilting her face back up. Jaq sensed she was telling the truth. He slapped her hard across the face, but she didn't make a sound. _Why wouldn't she??_

Finally, his hands closed on her throat and pressed forcefully, waiting for the kill, waiting till when the last inch of her life disappeared.

And then…

He noticed her eyes. Sparkling. Determined, innocent, strong, and kind, even now.

And they were gray.

"_Elle?"_ he whispered, disbelievingly.

His pulse was pounding hard, his breath coming out ragged. He couldn't believe it. Not here. Not now. How could he be so blind? He should have realized. Her spirit, her fiery red hair…But he didn't let go. Elle's eyes, his little sister's eyes, seemed to recognize who he was at the same time he figured out who she was. And her eyes were not pleading, not anymore.

Atton, Jaq, whoever he was, so long blinded by the darkness and poisoned by Revan, could not see, nor think clearly. Elle was the source of all of his problems. He could see that now. It had been him his mother had wanted to send away, not Elle. If not for her, things would be normal, and just the way things had to be. Now, Jaq had a job to do. The moment seemed to go on forever.

Elle's hands closed on his, the hand that now held her at the throat, the hand that could take away her life in an instant. Her touch was cool and calming.

And then, he heard a voice in his head. The most beautiful voice in the entire world. It was crystal clear, and spoke to him. It resonated in his thoughts.

_Atton. You are my big brother. Even in death. And even in this big gap that has been drawn between us. I am dying, Atton. But you. You still have a chance._

The voice started to fade away.

Hot tears were falling down Jaq's face, but he ignored them.

"Good-bye, Elle," he said out loud, and pressed hard.

One last look from her pale gray eyes, and she was gone.

**::.Much, much later.::**

Atton recalled what Darth Revan had said to him. If he did not accomplish his mission, to not bother coming back at all. But he had accomplished it. It was the coming back part that he couldn't seem to fathom anymore. His mind was whirling. It was like everything he thought he knew had gone up in smoke. The world as he knew it was falling in pieces around him, beneath him.

And Elle.

Things hurt too much beyond the telling of it.

Guilt flooded him. He knew that he had had a choice, and he had chosen to kill her.

His only little sister. Who had been no longer a little kid, but a young woman. In his mind, he pictured her, asking him to tell her a story. He closed his eyes painfully. His sister, a Jedi. What had happened all those years he had been away? Now, he would never know.

She was the only one he had been missing all these years, the only ray of light that kept him fighting during the Mandalorian Wars.

And he had killed her.

How did he even get here? How had he gotten so corrupted?

Questions disturbed his thoughts, and he wouldn't let himself find a moment's peace.

Later on, he would tell the Exile that it had been the Jedi who had found _him_, not the other way around. It was a cover story for his own shameful past…That he had fallen so far that he had not even recognized his own sister.

_I killed her because I loved her_.

::.**Coruscant, present day**.:: 

Ian Pace showed up at Carth's office door later that day. He was on edge, anyone could see that. His curly, dark hair was rumpled, his yellow eyes were disturbed, and he couldn't stay still.

"Carth," said Ian, possibly the first time he had called Carth that, and not 'sir,' "I really have to speak to you. I can't keep it in any longer."

"What is it, Ian?" asked Carth, concerned.

"It's me," he said, dispairingly, yet as though a big burden was being lifted off of him. "It's me. I'm…I'm Revan's…I mean, I'm Elaine's…son."

* * *

A/N: I miss Elle now... :) Here you go, next chapter. 


	14. 13: Serendipity

**Chapter 13 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Serendipity

"**W**here are we going to head now?" Brianna asked Atton and Griff, as they rode along in a shuttle. Brianna sat opposite Atton, and Griff was by the window. "We know too much. They're probably going to send as many clones or people as they can spare after us."

"It's best if we split up," said Atton. "As for me, I know where I'm going. Deralia."

"What's there?" asked Brianna, raising her eyebrows.

"The person I've been looking for this whole time. The reason you saw me in the cantina, on my way to her."

"Demia Thress?" Brianna guessed.

Atton nodded.

"I'm headed to Coruscant," said Griff, putting his feet up on the opposite seat, getting a disapproving look from Brianna. "I gotta go see my lil' sis. Explain to her what's going on. I hope the clone hasn't made too much damage."

"That just leaves me," Brianna said slowly. "Atris, my mistress, sent me to prevent Vincentii from capturing any more people as clones." She laughed hollowly. "Guess I didn't do such a good job."

"Well, if you hadn't gone all stealth mode, you wouldn't have known I was already a prisoner and you wouldn't have gotten me free. So, you can say I'm grateful for that."

Brianna smiled. "That is true." She turned to look out of the shuttle's window. "I have a feeling that where I'm supposed to be is not that cantina anymore. I feel something calling me away from there…But I'm still unsure as where to go."

Atton cleared his throat. "Well, we still got some time. Time for you to decide, and time for us to get some answers. Firstly, Griff. Why were you locked up in Vincentii? Or do you just have a thing for locks and binds?"

"Hardly."

Brianna looked at Atton. "This coming from somebody who seems to spend most of his time in Force cages?"

"Now, where would you hear a thing like that?"

"Demia. Remember, you came to see us in Telos. She told me how you two had met."

"Just call her Demi. And, ah, yes, the ice fortress. Still trying to forget about that place."

"We live in a desert now."

"A desert." Atton looked startled. "First deadly cold ice, now an extremely hot and barren desert. You really like your extremes."

"One way of putting it."

"Okay!" interrupted Griff. "I thought this question was about me."

"Sorry," mumbled Brianna. "Couldn't resist."

"I get that a lot," said Atton.

"Aren't you humble," coddled Griff. "Allrighty. So. I was working with Vincentii, as you may have figured out by now."

Atton: "_No._"

Brianna: "No possible way."

Atton: "Thought never crossed my mind."

Griff rolled his eyes. "_Okay,_ so it was extremely obvious. I had so many dealings with them. What happened was, they heard about my skill to make Tarisian ale with just water and tach glands, and got it into their thick heads they'd like to use my talent."

"And you accepted," said Atton.

"Right. I mean, it's credits, man! And I'm talking _a lot_ of credits. Like, you could roll around in them, make a wind storm with them, I could even have started my own company if I wanted to!"

"But you didn't."

Griff shook his head. "No. They gave me half the credits beforehand, then got me to work. I was under twenty-four hour scrutiny. They were like running my life."

"What exactly was it that they wanted you to make?" Brianna inquired.

Griff sighed. "It's called Clarande-V. You saw a box marked with it back when we were in Vincentii."

"But what does it _do_?"

"They decided I would be perfect to help them brew something similar to, if not exactly, like the water the fountain in Nausuma gave. You know, immortal. It's like the superhero drink of the century. It makes you live longer and makes you stronger. This would make their army-in-the-making very hard to kill, if not undefeatable. It wears off after a while though. But I did. Make it, I mean."

Atton whistled long and low.

"But why were you locked up if you were helping that company?" asked Brianna.

"Simple. I knew too much. And they thought I would get ideas. Better to keep me close and locked up, than far away and free. They'd take me out and use me when they needed me. What if I gave everybody that recipe for the profit? It wouldn't be a very un-Griffy-y thing to do. So, no. That would be Vincentii's secret weapon. These big companies are always selfish that way, you see."

"Griff, this is very important," said Brianna urgently. "Do you know anything about their plan? What exactly are they going to do with the clones and the Clarande-V?"

"We heard they were going to storm into Nausuma on something called 'Ascension Day,' and pretty much kill everybody," said Atton. "A massacre, if you want it plainly put. Need a clearer explanation? A diagram, maybe?"

Brianna gave him an annoyed look. "But…if the clones are nearly undefeatable, and so are the Ha-meshuns, the battle would be epic. It would go on forever. It would possibly never end."

"I think you clarified that with the 'forever.' But she has a valid point, Griff."

"Look, I don't know the details. They only told me the pieces in which I would be able to help. Destroy the fountain. Yup. Destroy it. Send a few of the cloned and kidnapped people to cut off the source at the center of that planet that flowed through every living thing in Nausuma…plants, Ha-meshuns, and their immortality would eventually wear off. Then, the Ha-mesuns number would dwindle, and Vincentii would eventually win."

"Something doesn't add up though," Atton said slowly. "Those in Vincentii want to be immortal, right? Why destroy the fountain, the only source of the immortality?"

"Wait," said Brianna. "You know the story? About Nausuma and the water?"

"Yeah," said Atton tiredly. "When I was a kid, I used to tell my little sister stories. The one about Nausuma, Aion-zoë, Ha-meshuns…that was one of the popular ones she always liked to hear. If you didn't know, it's pretty much well-known. It's just that everyone believes it's just a fairy-tale."

"I see," said Brianna slowly.

"In answer to your question, Atton," said Griff, "They wanted me to look at the original roots and ingredients of the fountain, how it was made, how it grew. With Vincentii's equipment, and my smarts, they thought might be able to pull off another fountain. If not, they always had the other semi-immortality drink, which was close enough. They wanted a fountain that only they could have access to. They wanted the Ha-meshuns out of the picture."

"Do you think you could have actually copied the original Aion…thing?" asked Atton.

Griff sighed, shaking his head. "Gee, I don't know. I mean, sure I can improvise, I got the smarts, the resources…but pulling off something that big and making a cheap imitation of something that's been around for more than thousands of years…I just don't think I'm ready, you know?"

Brianna and Atton nodded slowly.

"One more question," said Atton. "It's been bothering me for a while. What is it with the clones??"

"Well, just in case, if something goes wrong, and the clones die, they always have the regular people, kidnapped, to make more for their army. The clones are brainwashed and listen to their orders. That's all. And the original people are kept locked up, until they need them to re-copy their DNA and make more copies."

"We heard you helped Vincentii make a new-and-improved model," said Brianna disapprovingly.

Griff sighed. "Yeah. Fortunately, or unfortunately, in the old version, you could tell if someone had been cloned. Their personality is way off base, and they only remember what Vincentii records in them. But then, they offered to pay me more if I could research how to make the clones more accurate and stronger. I came up with some DNA-mixing for them, trying to retrieve the old person's memories, in case they need to go undercover. For making stronger clones, I thought of mixing their DNA with gizkas' DNA. Gizkas were used a lot in the lab, whenever we were experimenting something new. One time, some scientist accidentally spilled a bottle that was supposed to make you more angry and ferocious over a gizka. We bred them, mixed their DNA with the clones, and what you get is one seriously pissed off, big, strong, clone."

Atton groaned and looked away. "That is one twisted mind you got there."

"I'll take that as a compliment. And, oh! Before I forget," said Griff. "I found out there are Sith working for Vincentii too. So we got Nausuma with the Ha-meshuns and their Sith allies on one side, and Vincentii with the Sith traitors on the other."

"Those are the ones who captured me in the cantina," said Atton. "Can't say they made the best first impression."

"The Vincentti Siths' jobs are to capture the people Vincentii could use for the cloning. And what do you expect? The Sith are slimy. They stay with whoever they think has the more likely chance to win."

_Like me,_ Griff added inwardly then shook his head. For his sister, he was going to try to change. No, not try. Do. It was going to be difficult, though. Old habits die hard.

Atton also quieted, remembering how he had joined Revan after she had beaten the Mandalorians.

"One more," Atton said suddenly. "I remember in the vents you said something about Leo and Clarande-V. Who's Leo?"

"He's somebody who worked with me in Vincentii. I heard some of Vincentii is after him. Leo betrayed Vincentii. He's a good guy, that Leo. He wanted to get out of this tangled web. But he knew too much. And so that's why I figure he's pretty much on the run right now. He left Vincentii, of his own choice. Me, I was stuck. Couldn't wait to help them, as long as it meant more credits in my pocket." Griff shook his head. "He also stole an important vial of Clarande-V that was way ahead in productivity, and might have made the clones live longer."

"Why did he steal that bottle of Clarande-V?" asked Atton.

"Well, obviously, because he didn't want Vincentii to progress. Suddenly, he didn't think this was all such a good idea. So because of Leo, right now, the clones may be stronger, but they won't be everlasting. They'll live their regular life span. I hear Vincentii really wants to get their hands on that lost vial. Is that all?" Griff looked around hopefully.

"Yeah. You pass," said Atton, waving a hand dismissively.

"Hey, it's my turn now," said Griff. "How do you know Mission, my little sis?"

"Apparently, she went on a big adventure with some big crew on the Ebon Hawk. Five years later, me and mine also had an adventure. Carth called us to Coruscant, and we were all introduced. Big family reunion. She's a talented one at pazaak, your sister."

Griff grinned broadly, proudly. "She is, isn't she?"

"I've been thinking," said Brianna suddenly, who had been very quiet these last few minutes. She faced Atton. "I'd like to come with you to Deralia, to Demi. I think I could direct her to Atris. Atris has all the answers to her questions. She knows what has been going on. She could lead her to Nausuma, to Revan."

Atton looked at her for a moment, and she held his gaze strongly. Atton knew that she would do anything she could possibly do to help. He nodded his assent.

He slid open the compartment door, to ask the snack lady coming by with the food trolley when they were landing.

"Just a few more minutes and we'll be landing in the Central Port," was what she said. "It's the center of transportation. There are dozens of shuttles there, and they'll take you to pretty much anywhere you want to go. The pilots know all the hyperspace routes, so you'll get there extra fast. Cookies, anyone?"

**::.In Vincentii.::**

Griff, the clone, had returned to his home base. "Did you receive my call?" he asked the head worker.

"Yes," he replied. "Thank you. We sent another clone after Leo immediately after we got it."

Griff, the clone, smiled. "Good. Which clone did you send?"

The worker smiled even bigger. "One of our best." He tapped the screen, pointing at the profile of the new clone they had sent after Leo. "We call him Jaq."

**::.Deralia.::**

_Something's not right,_ thought Demi, watching Jaq (who she thought was Atton) look out the hover car's window, which would take them to the Ebon Hawk. His brown hair fell lightly over his forehead, his dark brown eyes were obviously thinking about something, and his fingers thumbed a pazaak card. _It's him. It looks like him. Acts like him. Something is just…off._ She shook her head. _Don't even think about it. It's probably just the big journey he took to get here. Something happened that changed him inside. Yeah, that's probably it._

Rain started falling all around the hover car. It fell in drizzles down the sides of the hover car's windows, and thinned out the rest of Deralia from view.

She had introduced him to Dane. Apparently, they knew each other from before. They had been comrades during the Mandalorian Wars. Dane seemed to have forgiven him from crossing sides over to Revan, seeing as he was very 'Jedi-like' and 'Save-the-world type' now. Demi had been relieved. She hated it when there was tension between people. But right now, that's what it was. She looked over at him again. Something was just not right.

But then, he looked over at her, and gave his trademark scoundrelly grin. "While we're waiting here in this hover car that only goes an inch a minute, what do you say to a game of pazaak?"

_Yup,_ Demi thought. _It's him._ And any doubts that she had, she pushed forcefully from her mind.

They parked the hover car, and hurried to the silver plate. The rain made Demi's hair frizzy, but she didn't mind.

"What are you thinking about?" Jaq asked her.

Demi diverted her eyes from the falling rain to meet his gaze. "Just that I love the rain."

"Come on, kids!" yelled Leo, lifting the silver plate up, and they all hurried underground.

Grace was not on duty today, and this dampened Demi's spirits a little. She had been looking forward to seeing her, with all her cheerfulness and down-to-earth ways. But the Ebon Hawk was here, and that's what mattered.

Dane looked up at the Ebon Hawk. "Well, I guess here's your ride." She looked sad to see them go.

Demi went over to her and gave her a hug. "Thanks for everything, Dane. Take care, 'k?"

Leo shook her hand. "I'm awfully, awfully sorry about your house."

Dane shrugged that away. "No worries. At least I'll have something to do for a few months."

"Don't work too hard," said Jaq to her, giving her a smile, then slinging his pack over his shoulder, as he head up the ramp.

Demi gave Dane a last wave, then went inside. Hopefully, her secret dream would come true, that she'd come back here to Deralia and live out a peaceful life like she had always wanted.

"Well, this place looks familiar," said Jaq, smiling.

T3 beeped and whizzed to the computer room, glad to be back.

"Bewildered Speculation: It appears my circuitry is not exactly fond of the rain," said HK tonelessly. "I shall go to my chamber and…hibernate. Optimistic Reflection: But fear not! After I am fully rested, I will be fully prepared to exterminate any non-meatbags or meatbags you point me to. Anyone is fine. Clarification: I am not what you meatbags would call, extremely picky."

"I appreciate it," said Demi, smiling. She watched HK go. HK was starting to grow on her.

"Make yourselves at home!" said Leo, heading towards the engine room. "We're not leaving straight away. We still have to rev the engine up."

That left Demi and Jaq.

"Right," she said. "I'm going to go repair my lightsaber. You wanna come, or do you want to brood in your favorite cockpit?"

"Brood?" asked Jaq, perplexed.

"Yes. Brood. You've been weirdly quiet ever since you got here."

"Nah. I'm just tired," said Jaq, but Demi thought he looked strangely alarmed at her comment. "And I don't really want to go to the cockpit just yet. I'm going to probably be holed up there the whole time anyway. Mind me tagging along with you?"

"Suit yourself," said Demi making her way through the ship to the place where Bao's workstation was.

As Demi got out the hilt and her silver crystal to repair the damaged lightsaber.

"So…what's the plan?" asked Jaq, fingering a hydrospanner.

"Well, we try to follow the vision T3 had, to find Atris, who Elaine apparently visited to have a little chat with."

"For five years?" asked Jaq, making a face. "I couldn't stand talking to Atris for even one minute."

"I have to admit, same feelings here. But, you know, there's always hope that she's changed."

"Leo's really your brother?" he asked then.

Demi tossed a glance at him, her ponytail swinging. "Yeah. Pretty shocking, huh? And here I was, thinking I was the only Thress left."

"What do you know about him? What was his job?"

"Swoop racing. Then, he worked in this big evil company called Vincentii, but he decided to call it quits."

"How come?"

Demi gave him an odd glance. "You're really interested in this, aren't you?"

"I've been…out of the loop, I guess. I don't really like that feeling."

"Okay. Well, I guess Leo just felt like he had had enough with all of their dealings. It's understandable, right?"

He didn't answer that. "Did he take anything with him?" said Jaq, pressing on. He was almost there, reaching his goal. Maybe he was rushing it, but the rain hadn't done much good for him either. He felt impatient.

"Well, aside from himself? I honestly don't know."

"Right," said Jaq, dragging his fingers through his hair. "I'll be back." He was going to talk to Leo.

But he never had a chance to.

He turned around to exit, and suddenly, it was like a mirror had framed the doorway.

Atton, the _real_ Atton, was standing there.

"You know what?" he said conversationally, igniting his yellow lightsaber. "I've had a really, really crappy day. And here I am, finding myself cloned." He eyed Jaq critically and dangerously.

"I'm about to make your day a whole lot worse," grinned Jaq, lighting his own yellow lightsaber.

"Actually," said Atton, as they walked in a slow circle around each other, waiting for the other to pounce. "Killing you just might make it better."

"Okay, _STOP!_" screamed Demi, a horrified, confused look on her face. "What in the Force is going on?"

Atton and Jaq both said at the same time, "I'm the real Atton! Vincentii cloned me!"

One of them glared daggers at the other. "Never mind. Let me handle this, Demi."

"I'm not going to stand here and wait for one of you to kill the other!" She fingered her belt automatically, then realized her lightsaber was still being repaired.

"Waiting would be a really smart idea, especially when you don't know which one of us is really me!" He dodged a blow from his opponent.

One of them took his gaze off the other for only a second, and held Demi's gaze, which she returned suspiciously. "Believe me, Demi. I'm Atton. Just stay back. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Don't even try playing the protective card!" one of them snapped at the other. "Your battle is with me, remember?" He ran at the other until their lightsabers were crossed, barely grazing the other's face. They were both seething at each other over the lightsabers. "You touch her," said the same one forcefully, "you die."

"Isn't one of us dying already the whole point of us fighting?"

The yellow lightsabers started flashing, buzzing as they made contact, swirling around and around in a complex dance. One of them aimed a low hit, the other jumped over it. One of them aimed for the other's face, the other had to bend flexibly and tilt back to avoid the hit. It seemed like Atton and Jaq could read each other's minds, and block the other's hits in time. Demi knew she had to intervene. The question was…which one was was the real Atton?

They both looked the same, wore the same things, moved the same…And she couldn't quiz them about past memories because the clone had them too…Demi closed her eyes and tried to get past the sounds of the lightsabers flashing, the hazy movements of the other…she tried to get into the minds and thoughts of the real person within.

_Can't let him win,_ was the thought of one of them, as he did a flip off the wall to avoid getting hit.

That one wasn't helpful. It could be either of them. Demi focused on the other Atton, and delved into his mind.

_7+5 is twelve+ 9 is twenty-one, subtract 1 is twenty…_

Demi opened her eyes. The person who had thought this was focusing intently on the other's next move, ready to block. There was no way to be sure if this was really Atton, but Demi took a leap of faith.

She dived in, and punched the other person squarely in the jaw, catching him unaware. And Atton, the one who had been counting pazaak in his head, struck his lightsaber in the other with a _whooshing_ sound.

The lightsaber was sticking out of Jaq's chest, and Atton pulled his lightsaber back out.

Jaq's body crumpled to the floor.

"I'm home," Atton announced, swinging his lightsaber back into its place. "Home and alive." He kicked the clone's boot disgustedly. "Can't say the same for this schutta here though."

There was silence for a moment.

"How did you know?" he asked Demi quietly, putting his lightsaber back in his belt.

"I thought you had grown out of counting pazaak in your head," was her reply.

Atton smiled grimly, his hair damp with rain. "But what if I'm really the clone?"

Demi looked him in the eye. There was nothing artificial about them, like the clones' eyes were. These conveyed emotion. They were a swirl of brown, dark, light, shrewdness, regret, loneliness, lust, pain, and so much more she wanted to understand but wasn't sure if she was really ready to.

What she was sure of was that even the smartest scientists would not be able to copy this imperfect masterpiece.

"If you were the clone," she said, matter-of-factly, "I'd kill you dead."

And she walked out of the room.

Atton followed her, shaking his head, a smile spreading over his face. "That's good to know."

* * *

A/N: Because of Chapter 25 (which I have not uploaded—yet), I'm going to have to re-write the scene w/ Dane and 'Jaq,' which I admit I rushed by. :) Ah, well. Kudos! 


	15. 14: Bittersweet

**Chapter 14 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Bittersweet

**D**emi was dreaming. She knew that. She could feel all of her, every fiber of her being, being drawn up, weightless. She knew she was dreaming, but she couldn't wake up. The dream now had its hold on her. It was a dream of the past.

And the past had not been a dream.

When Demi opened her eyes, she was once again ten years old. She could feel a light breeze moving the stalks of grass. She pressed her ear back down on the ground. She could feel the planet beating its heart, she could hear the world whispering to her. Overhead, an eagle traced the sky with his wings.

"What are you doing, Demia?" asked a voice gently, from behind her.

"Listening to the universe, Kavar," she replied.

Kavar, a padawan who was almost twenty years old, watched her, a bemused look on his face. He had a memorable face, one with eyes that had seen too much, belonging to a soul that had been forced to grow too early and too much in so little time. "And what do you hear, Youngling?"

Demi sat up, her sparkling eyes serious. "I hear it trying to speak to me. But I have no idea what it's trying to say."

"Perhaps you need a second pair of ears to help you out," said Kavar, as he too knelt down on the plains and put his ear to the ground, his light brownish-blondish hair sweeping the ground.

They looked up at each other as they did this, and Demi couldn't help giggling. "Do you hear it?"

Kavar smiled. "What do you think it's trying to tell us?"

Demi shook her head. "It seems to want us to figure it out on our own. That doesn't seem very fair." She sat back up. "Is that what this is all about?"

"What is?"

"I dunno…Life? Figuring things out?"

Kavar looked at her, and imitated the deep voice of a wise, Jedi Master. "'Deep words from so young a person.'" Demi laughed. Kavar sat with one leg bent, with his elbow resting on it, his fingers twiddling a tall, dry stalk of grass between them. "Seriously, though, I have no idea. I've lived nearly a decade longer than you, and still the answer escapes me."

"Maybe it's better that way."

"Maybe."

"It gives us something to live for."

"Or die for," Kavar muttered, but only to himself.

Demi, deciding she didn't want anymore of this deep talk, got out her wooden staff, and too put on a voice. "Padawan Kavar, are you ready to take on the powerful Apprentice Demia Thress?"

"Is this a challenge?" Kavar asked, standing up and grinning. "The odds seem to be against me. I left my staff back in the enclave."

"Surely the strong Padawan can fight the young Apprentice without a weapon?" said Demi, still talking in the strange accent, playfully.

"It is a challenge!"

"Aye, sir, it is."

Kavar smiled at Demi, and Demi returned the gaze.

"Then I'll gratefully accept it."

They bowed at one another, then Demi took out her staff and twirled it around herself before getting in a defensive stance. She had practiced with this staff ever since she had received it.

Then, they rushed at each other. Demi aimed straight for his heart, but Kavar blocked it away. Demi did a round-house kick, quick and snappy, that Kavar barely had time to avoid, but ducked in time.

Demi attempted a low hit to Kavar's ankles, but Kavar kicked it away, along with her staff.

"The Youngling has lost her only weapon!" he said, arms up to protect himself, ready for her next move.

"You forget, Kavar," said Demi, smiling mischievously, "I still, and always shall, have another."

She had no way of knowing that this power was soon going to be stripped from her, leaving her torn in half and lost.

She closed her eyes, summoned in all the power within her, and used it to propel a whirl-wind toward Kavar that pushed him back forcefully. Kavar flew back many feet and hit the ground with a loud sound flat on his back.

Demi was laughing. "You will remember next time!"

Kavar didn't reply.

Demi stopped laughing. "Kavar?" she repeated, fearfully. Slowly, she approached the figure, and got on her knees beside him. "Kavar? Are you all right?"

Kavar groaned, but smiled at Demi. "I will definitely remember next time not to underestimate you." With effort, he pulled himself into a sitting position. "That was some power you have there, Thress."

Demi beamed. She gave him her hand, and supported him to get him up again. They were still holding hands when the Jedi Master of that time came over.

His quick, weathered eyes glanced once at their enclasped hands, then back on their guilty faces.

"What is the meaning of this?" he managed to stutter out.

"It's none of her fault," Kavar said immediately, dropping Demi's hand. "We were just practicing a fight, and she got a pretty good blow on me." He exchanged a glance with Demi. "She was just helping me up when you came by."

"I see," the Jedi Master said slowly. "Is this true, Apprentice Demia Thress?"

Not knowing what else to do, Demi nodded, then said, still in the playful accent, "Aye, it is as true as true can be, sir."

Receiving strange looks from both Kavar and the Master, she coughed, embarrassed and said, in her regular voice. "I mean, what Kavar said."

The Jedi Master sighed. "You both know that we do not tolerate fighting outside of the enclave. Neither do we encourage…bonds…of any kind. Both of you will recite the Jedi Code with me."

Together, they chimed together,

"_There is no emotion; there is peace. _

_There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. _

_There is no passion; there is serenity. _

_There is no death; there is the Force."_

The Jedi Master looked sternly at each of them. "Hopefully, then you will learn your lesson, and mark your actions better next time. It is for the good of the Republic, the people, and the universe."

Giving one last look to each of them, he walked back into the enclave.

Demi and Kavar looked at each other, exchanging only a soft smile and laugh, as they walked back inside.

It was only then that Demi woke up.

She sat straight up in her cot, trying to remember that she was on the Ebon Hawk and was not on Dantooine with Kavar, listening to the universe by putting her ear to the planet. Did she wish she was? She sighed, and rested her head back on the pillow.

Things were very confusing. work going, blondie?" asked Mira, coming over to see what Mical was working on. They were in the Hall of Records, sunlight coming from the windows all around. There was the sound of people turning pages, talking, and debating. The walls were made of plaster and were painted with many murals. Since it was morning, the Force generated candles were off. "I brought you breakfast." She offered a pastry to him, wrapped in a napkin.

Mical looked up, smiled, and took the pastry gratefully. "And what did I do to deserve this?"

"Relax, Mical," said Mira, drawing up a chair. "Don't get your power couplings all in a knot. It's just a pastry, nothing more."

Mical looked at the pastry doubtfully.

"What?" demanded Mira, tying up her red hair. "You allergic to it?"

"No…not at all…It's just…" Mical looked up at Mira. "It's not poisoned, is it?"

Mira gave him an annoyed look. She got up from her chair, and pushed it back in. "If this is what I get for doing a kind gesture for once, I'm leaving."

"No! No. I was just kidding, honestly," said Mical. "Please, sit down."

"Do me a favor, blondie," said Mira, reclaiming her seat. "Don't try to kid around anymore."

"Right." He swallowed, then said, "I found out some new information."

"No kidding," said Mira, looking interested. "What did you dig up?"

"Some things about the Sith on Nausuma. Here." He slid the book over to Mira so she could read it too. "Apparently, they are different from the other Sith. A long, long time ago, they were dark warrior priests, who were escaping from the Republic. When they arrived at Nausuma, at first, they wanted to see and drink from the Aionzoë, but the Ha-meshuns captured them and both sides conversed. They came to an agreement. They would help the Ha-meshuns protect the fountain, as would their generations. They would live in Nausuma with the same luxuries as the Ha-meshuns. Except for the fact that the Sith would not be able to drink from the fountain, like the Ha-meshuns did. Only the number one devoted Sith would drink from it, and that person was Aleksander."

"Aleksander?" questioned Mira.

"Yes. The leader of that group of Sith to land here. It says here that he takes his job very seriously, and that no Sith has ever questioned his authority. The Ha-meshuns treat him with high respect and regard, like one of their own."

"Hmm," mused Mira. "Sounds like this Aleksander does a kick-ass job of guarding the fountain."

"Let's hope so. Life progressed and was good, with the Ha-meshun council leading with Aleksander at their side…"

"Until Vincentii came into the picture, and wanted to take over," Mira finished. "Remind you of some other company we've heard about?"

"Czerka?" asked Mical, eyebrows raised.

"Exactly. Vincentii and Czerka. Both allied with the Sith and engaged in criminal activities. Luckily, it's only Vincentii we're worried about at the moment."

"Yes. Lucky." The both peered at the book for some time. Then…"I want to apologize for how I acted during the conference where we were telling Carth the news," said Mical. "I don't want to come off as…unoptimistic, I was just immensely frustrated. I'm sorry."

Mira watched him carefully. "We all are sorry, Mical. We're sorry that some loser psychos had to go and get it into their heads that they wanted to take over the world; we're sorry that people that we love the most are headed towards something equally unknown; and we're sorry that we're left behind. It's life, Mical. This cycle of things moving around and never stopping. So don't apologize for that. It's a waste."

She stood up, and pushed her chair in for the final time. "I'm going to go and find something to do. Being a Jedi Master isn't as easy as it looks, but sometimes there's just nothing to do in this damn place! Carth gets the Telos Restoration Project, you get to teach little padawans about the Force, Mission gets the Lose-a-Pazaak-Game-for-Free-Because-the-Credits-go-to-the-Needy, but me…I don't seem to have anything to do. And a girl needs excitement." She sighed. "Sometimes I think of following Atton and Demi and all of them, and going into whatever dangers are out there. Sometimes I feel like they need me more than any people here do."

"You must control that urge," said the Disciple. "You know it's not what Demi would want."

Mira held his gaze for a while. "Right. Well, I'm heading out. Catch you later, blondie." Then she stopped, and pointed at the pastry she had gotten him. "You haven't even touched it yet."

Mical looked up. "Oh, right." But didn't move.

"Oh, my God, you really think I poisoned that, didn't you?" she asked, horrified. "Listen, just 'cause I was a former bounty hunter who made it my hobby to sometimes poison my victims, only when the bounty was worth more on them dead, doesn't mean I'm still like that."

"_No!_ Of course not. I didn't even mean to suggest—Here." He took a hearty bite out of it. "Better?" he said thickly, through a mouthful of cheese Danish.

Mira shook her head, smiling, and exited through the large doors.

Mical gazed after her for a moment, then went back to researching in his books.

**::.Aboard the Ebon Hawk.::**

"Leo, this is Atton and Brianna. Atton and Brianna, this is Leo, my brother," Demi found herself saying yet again. They had done this whole introduction thing yesterday, but for some reason Leo felt like they had to do it again. They were all seated in the main hold, around a large table.

T3 was whizzing down the hall, followed by HK.

"Oh! And T3 and HK," Demi added in a rush. "Don't want to forget them."

"Strange," said Atton. "I'm oddly glad to see those little trash compactors."

"It is strange," agreed Leo, shaking Atton's hand. "I thought I had already met you yesterday."

"Damn clones," said Atton darkly. "I'm thinking those at Vincentii really need to get a new hobby."

"I'm sorry that I was not there to help you defeat him," said Brianna. "I was still re-exploring the ship."

"And I was in the engine room…It was way too loud to hear any commotion," added Leo.

"Nah, it's fine. Me and Dem here, we turned the guy to dust."

"If I may ask…where did you put the body?" asked Leo.

Demi grimaced. "In a foot locker. Please don't open any till we can get rid of it."

"Well," said Leo, checking the map. "We'll be at Centrol Port in maybe a day or two. We can…uh…drop it off there. We need to stop there to get some fuel anyway. Grace filled the Hawk with enough to get us out of Deralia, but they didn't exactly have the resources to fill the whole tank."

He looked at Brianna, who looked at him as well, expectantly. "And you say that you know exactly where Atris is?"

Brianna smiled at him. "Yes. It's my home, anyway. I'd be glad to help direct your course there."

"That would be great. So, in return, would you like me to give you the grand-tour of the ship?"

Demi looked back and forth at the both of them, just realizing now that they both had the same color hair.

Brianna smiled warmly. "I'd appreciate that very much." Leo winked at Demi, then left with Brianna.

That left Demi and Atton together. Demi warmed her mug of white chai in her gloved hands that only showed the fingertips, then fussed with the sparkling earring studs in her ear.

"I'm mad at you, you know," Atton said, watching her, drinking some of his juma.

Demi looked up, surprised. "For leaving?"

Atton slammed his cup of juma down after taking a hearty swig. "Yes! And for trying to get away without saying goodbye and not even bothering to explain anything that was going on…What was that about, Dem? Because you running away after Revan into some Sith planet kinda defeats the purpose of protecting you these last few months, don't you think?"

Demi sighed, and looked back down. "I didn't tell you," she said slowly, "Because I thought you would come after me if I did."

Atton laughed hollowly. "And look how well that turned out!"

Demi started laughing too, she couldn't help it. "I'm sorry," she said finally, taking deep breaths, and trying not to laugh again. "I guess it was a lose-lose situation, huh? You would have come even if I _had_ told you everything."

"I prefer to think of it as a win-win situation."

"Hmm. Of course you would." Softly she said, "It's going to be dangerous, you know, Atton."

"You're talking to somebody who got himself captured, cloned, and almost killed. It's a little late to be handing out a memo, Demi."

"It's not going to be easy."

"I invented that phrase."

"And if you die," Demi continued, "I think I might." She looked up at him.

Atton gave her a sad smile. "Then we go down together."

"I guess we do."

"So our paths are set."

"There's no going back."

They sat there in silence in mock contemplation, then Demi said, "Well, this is a mighty cheerful conversation we're having, isn't it?"

Atton gave a trademark grin. "I'm not going anywhere, Demi. And you know it."

Demi sighed. "I guess I asked for it."

"'Fraid so."

"Well." Demi took another delicate sip of her chai. "Care to explain about the clone?"

"Well, it all started at this cantina…"

**::. A few minutes later.::**

"Wow," Demi breathed after he was done. "Newer, stronger, smarter clones…I'm glad you guys got out all right. Seems you three make quite the team."

"That's the truth." Atton tapped his juma cup absent-mindedly. "So what about you? Did you actually buy that clone's act?"

Guiltily, Demi looked down. "I knew something was off, but…I ignored that feeling. I'll have to learn to trust myself more." There was silence again for a moment, then Demi said, "It was just…weird, you know? Watching the you-who-wasn't-you being killed by the you-who-was-you."

"Same feelings here. I mean, they got the hair all wrong."

"And here I am talking about my petty troubles."

Atton smiled. His fingers tapped on the table restlessly, itching to get his pazaak cards from his pocket. He had been deprived of them for several days, and hadn't tossed them so much as a glance after he had left after Demi.

"You want to play pazaak, don't you?" said Demi, her lips quirking in a smile, noticing this.

"How'd you guess?"

"Well, considering we're talking about you, considering there's really nothing else to do on this ship, and considering pazaak is one of the most favorite games around…Not that hard to piece together."

"I'll drink to that," said Atton, taking a swig of juma.

"You'd drink to anything," teased Demi.

"I'll drink to that too."

Finished with his drink, he asked, "So. Have you practiced lately?"

Demi started dealing out the cards that Atton had given her long ago. She gave him a half-smile. "We'll see, won't we?"

They tied during the first round, and ended up with Atton winning overall, with Demi behind by only one bust.

"Not bad, Padawan," he said, as he reshuffled with deft hands.

Demi had to ask.

"Atton?"

"Something up?"

Demi smiled inwardly as she remembered all the times he had said that on their previous journey. "Why did you really follow me?"

She waited for his honest reply.

_Isn't it obvious?_ His thoughts reverberated inside Demi's head. He looked her squarely in the eye and she realized he had wanted her to hear that.

Out loud though, he said, "I'm just not the kind of person to stay around waiting, unlike our very own flyboy, Carth."

Demi nodded. "Right." –Ignoring the fact that the clone Atton had said exactly the same thing.

To him though, she telegraphed, _I appreciate it, Atton._

She watched as he fingered the pazaak deck, his eyes focused entirely on them, his brown hair obscuring them. He wanted to say something else, but he didn't.

And so they continued the next games of pazaak in silence.

**::. Ebon Hawk, later.::**

"I think you've gone soft," Atton teased, barely avoiding getting hit with her lightsaber (now reforged and repaired). "Whoa, there!"

They were both sparring in the cargo room, like old times.

"Stay focused!" Demi said, readying herself for another attack, in a protective stance. Her double-bladed silver lightsaber stood at guard.

"I'm trying to, believe me," said Atton, as the lightsabers swerved over their heads and all around, "But it's kinda hard when a cute little blonde is threatening me with her lightsaber."

"It's not working!" said Demi, dodging a hit. "Try attacking or distracting with your actual lightsaber, instead of words."

Atton lunged in, and Demi deflected the blow.

"Tighten your grip!"

"Well, aren't you the little Jedi Master."

"We never really finished your training," said Demi. "This is to make up for it."

She did a lightning-fast strike, but Atton ducked, came up behind her, and held her at her neck, holding his lightsaber out before her neck, just like the position he had found himself in in that cantina.

"I believe I just won," whispered Atton in her ear.

Demi shuddered, then flipped him over her shoulder, so he landed on the floor with a groan.

"I believe you just lost," Demi said. "Don't over-estimate a situation. Remember, there may always be some hidden weapon your opponent has." She was thinking of her 'duel' with Kavar long ago.

"I'll try and remember that," Atton said, still lying back.

Rolling her eyes, Demi kneeled down beside him.

"We're not done yet," she said. "If you expect to survive with me on this journey, you're going to have to shape up."

"Yes, ma'am."

Demi smiled. "Good. Now come on." She grabbed his hand to get him back on his feet. "This time work on your footwork. You have to always stay moving. Be sure to never give your opponent an opening."

Atton stayed light on his feet this time, parrying a thrust, ducking another hit, then rammed straight into her, so she fell to the ground with him on top of her. Both of their lightsabers were still on, Demi's pointed at his chest, Atton's ready at her neck, ready to strike.

"You know this isn't really a realistic position in battle," Demi panted heavily. "We might end up dying at the same time, and that wouldn't really be any good."

"Not any good at all," Atton echoed, not moving.

Demi rolled her eyes again. "Get off me," she said thickly, pushing him so he fell back.

Atton was grinning now, and jumped back to his feet. Their lightsabers danced of their own accord, in flashes of yellow and silver, and Demi never wanted the dance to end.

**::. Coruscant.::**

Jolee and Mission were walking along the streets, just milling around with all the other people, as the sun slowly set down in the city. Jolee sniffed the air, a comical frown on his face. "It smells like flowers."

Mission sighed. "Yup. It always smells like flowers here. Coruscant and flowers. They go together, you know?"

"Hmph. I wish it wouldn't. I'm allergic to them."

"You can't really help it. It's for funerals, see? They put all these little blossoms of flowers on somebody's casket, and there's a procession, and they go all around the city."

"Can't they just stick to one part of the city? Give the old and dying some peace before they pass away themselves under a casket of flowers?"

"Jolee!" Mission said, aghast. "You're not going to die! I won't let you."

Jolee smiled dimly. "I thought you'd say that. I'm just getting you ready, Mission. And don't let them bury me in a casket, all right? And no to the flowers too. I want to be cremated. I want my ashes to be scattered to the wind so I can be with my Nayama again. Or at least to the memory of who she used to be."

Mission glanced sideways at him. "I promise, Jolee."

Jolee looked off into the sunset. "Good. Now that's over with. My jaw aches now. You young people make me talk too much."

"I'd blame the flowers," Mission said, skipping along.

"Ah. Wise choice. I would too."

Suddenly, from behind them, Dustil came running up. "Mission!" he panted.

"Dustil," Mission said in surprise.

"Jolee!" Jolee said.

Mission gave him a look, then turned to Dustil. "What's up?"

"It's Griff. He's back. He wants to talk to you."

"And what makes him think I want to talk to him?"

"The fact that he says the Griff you saw earlier wasn't really him. It was a clone."

"A clone?" Mission's frown deepened. "He's trying to get out of this, isn't he? It won't work, I tell you! I'm furious at him!"

"Then, by all means, go ahead and give him a piece of your mind," Dustil said, clutching a stitch in his side. "As long as you talk to him. Or else I ran over here for nothing."

"Come on." Mission grabbed Jolee by the elbow, and all three of them walked back. "I want to see what this is all about."

* * *

A/N: Not much to say right now, except thanks for reading. :) 


	16. 15: Only Hope

**Chapter 15 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Only Hope

**E**laine looked around. The bodies of the fallen Sith were all around her, and Elaine felt a wave of nausea go over her. Perhaps it was the fact she hadn't had anything to eat in many days, because she should have been used to death following her wherever she went by now.

The place she walked in was still barren, the sky gray, but she could see traces of the civilization she was looking for looming ahead. And sunlight. Taking off her pack, she rested against a rock wall and exhaled deeply. She was thirsting for water, but she had long run out. She closed her eyes and meditated for a while, trying to push down her hunger and misery. Her senses suddenly became awakened to the smallest things…The wind rustling through her dark hair, an insect buzzing not far away.

Finally, she opened her eyes and took out her small, handheld console.

"T3?" she said into it. "You there, my favorite bin of spare parts?"

A chirping, beeping reply came back to her.

Elaine smiled. Finally somebody to talk to. "I'm sorry that I put a chip inside you that keeps you updated to what I'm doing. I just wanted Carth to know…that I was all right."

T3-M4 beeped back.

Elaine frowned. "What do you mean you're not with Carth?"

T3's next reply was long, and Elaine sighed.

"I think I've heard of a Demia Thress before…Wasn't she an officer of some sort in the Mandalorian Wars? Argh. If I wasn't so damn hungry I might remember something…"

_Beep, beep._

"I am being careful. Are the gizkas still there?"

_Doot doot._

"Glad to hear it. How is Leo doing?"

_Yee boot beet._

"Atton is there?" Elaine said, surprised.

_Beep deet doo too._

"I'd like to talk to him later. I have a lot to apologize for."

_Doo too too._

"Thank you, T3. I knew I could trust you. But I suppose that you wouldn't have any idea if Carth is all right, or if my son is all right?"

_Beep beppo._

Elaine sighed. "Yes, I do miss them. And my son…I wish I could be there for him. It's harder for him because…He has no one to go to. I made him keep it a secret."

_Beep dweeko._

"I hope so too, T3. Take care, 'k? And say hi to HK for me. Please don't kill each other."

_Beep!_

"I sincerely hope you're kidding. He may be annoying, but nobody deserves _that_ sort of treatment."

_Doot!_

Elaine laughed, something she hadn't done in a long, long while. "Good-bye, T3."

And they both signed off.

Suddenly, a rough hand from behind her closed on Elaine's mouth, and it took all of her self-control not to scream.

**::. During the Mandalorian Wars.::**

The camp was set up, a protective fort. There were soldiers all around, some on the ground, some high above to see anyone approaching, scouts had been set out to explore the area, and everywhere were tents. Inside, there were people with maps planning the next course of action, soldiers training, people eating their rations, resting while they could, medics healing the injured, and so much more.

Demi closed her eyes, her hands still on the head of an injured soldier. A blue, cool energy radiated from her hand and instilled a feeling of relief on the badly wounded soldier.

"Thank you, General," he managed to say.

"Feel better," said Demi, smiling, standing up.

"General Thress!"

She turned around, to see a Zabrak running towards her. "Technician Bao-Dur? Do you need something?"

"Officer Urikal sent me to tell you that reinforcements are coming, led by Revan."

"That's good news. Our numbers have been depleting. Anything else?"

"He also wanted me to tell you to grab something to eat." Bao-Dur wore a mellow smile. "He says you've been over-working."

"I'm good, thanks."

Bao-Dur gave her a look. "With all due respect, General, I know 'good' when I see it, and you're definitely not it right now. You've got to get that bruise checked on. And get some sleep."

"I want to. A whole lot. But there's so much for me to do." Demi smiled. "Thanks, Bao-Dur. Maybe I'll see you later. You're dismissed."

Bao-Dur saluted. "Good luck, General."

"You too."

He walked off, to get back to his work. Demi continued on her way to another tent to converse with some of the other Jedi Generals about their next tactic that would catch the Mandalorians off-guard.

When she re-emerged from the tent, there were many more soldiers than she had remembered, and she distinctly saw a dark-haired woman in Jedi robes over by a far-off tent. She was talking in a serious manner to some of the other generals, then walked off to get herself some water.

Demi headed over. "Revan," Demi said, "we need to talk."

Revan looked up. "Is that so?" Her mouth twitched in amusement. "You must be General Thress. Straight and to the point, that's what I've heard about you. But also talented and passionate, especially for so young a person." She held out her hand, her violet eyes, with hints of red, sparkling.

Demi shook it. "It's an honor to meet you."

Revan took a sip of water and watched her. "Likewise."

"But it's coming to my attention that during the last couple of battles, the casualties on our side were too great. If you could come with me to the meeting I was having with others to come up with a safer method of attack, it would be greatly appreciated."

Revan, having drained her cup, threw it away, and turned her full attention to Demi. "You do realize that each of those battles that we fought, we won with strong victories?"

"I do," Demi said. "You are a great motivator to our troops. They'd do anything for you. But that's just it. Half of those troops don't come back out alive."

"The overall casualties of the Mandalorians were greater," Revan said back. "We've driven them almost out of Dxun. General Thress, you seem to be missing the point. People die in war. It's a well-known fact. I'm not saying I'm happy about it, but my troops are ready to die for the greater good of the galaxy. The question is, are you?"

Revan started weaving her way through the camp, Demi close behind. "I'm sure there's a way that we can win this war without half as many mothers or fathers, back home, wherever they are, crying over the loss of their only son or daughter. I _know_ people die in war, Revan, but this is getting reckless."

"General Thress, may I ask what your first name is?"

"You just did. It's Demi, short for Demia, but—"

"Demi, honey." Revan put an arm around Demi's shoulders. "I've hardly met you, and already I can tell you give your best effort to everything you do. Right now, though, I can tell you haven't eaten all day. Your soldiers are going to need you to motivate them, give them something to fight for, but you can't looking like this."

"That bad, huh?" Demi almost smiled. "Revan—"

"You seem to be the kind of person who cares about people, no matter what. I respect that. You called me reckless. Inside your head, you curse me for throwing away the lives of others with just a point of my finger." Demi was about to protest. "I respect you, Demi, even admire you, but you're going to need to learn how to take a chance. _Be reckless._ Sacrifice is secondary, as long as you get what you want in the end." She paused, searching Demi's eyes, then let her go. "Do not forget that."

And she walked away, a confidence in her stride.

Demi sighed. Now she knew why Revan had been chosen as the leader of this Crusade. She had an _effect_ on people. She radiated energy everywhere she went. She changed people's lives.

Demi was going to go train with her lightsaber, when she passed by a table a large number of the new recruits were crowded around. A cheer exulted through the air. Curious, Demi headed over, and the soldiers made way for her.

A handsome, young man with brown hair had just beaten another soldier at pazaak. "Pure pazaak! Sorry, Dane," he grinned at the losing player, "But these credits are mine now." He swept them over to his side of the table. "Any other challengers brave or stupid enough to take me on?"

Suddenly, his eyes met Demi's. Her heart started pounding, and she didn't have the slightest idea why. All she knew was that this man's gaze—whoever he was—was powerful.

Demi turned away abruptly, breaking it. She walked away, the shouts coming from the pazaak table slowly melting away into the distance.

Demi found somewhere quiet, and just meditated. It was easier like that. She didn't have to think about anything. She just had to focus, and keep her thoughts calm. It was a way to forget the things she wanted to forget without any guilt at all.

Kavar's face when she told him she was leaving to fight in the war…gone.

And she reached a higher level of peace.

**::. Later.::**

"Dammit, General Thress, give the order to push the goddamn button, or so help me, I will come over and do it myself!"

Revan's voice was shouting in Demi's ear over her headset.

"Innocent people are going to die. Get them out of there, and then I will!" Demi said back.

"We don't have the time. We have all our players in a row. It's now or never."

"I can't do it," said Demi.

"Can't, or won't? The outcome of this war is in your very hands, General," Revan said frustratedly. "The Mandalorians are going to get a blast they'll never forget. Give the order to press the button!" Quietly, she added, "I hope you haven't forgotten our last conversation so soon."

_You're going to need to learn how to take a chance._

_Be reckless._

_Sacrifice is secondary, as long as you get what you want in the end._

_Do not forget that._

_Sacrifice is secondary._

_Take a chance._

The control was in Bao-Dur's hands. Demi knew he wouldn't activate the weapon without her direct order.

"General?" he inquired.

One order, and the Mass Shadow Generator, designed by Bao-Dur, would be activated, destroying Malachor V, the Mandalorians, and also Republic troops.

One order, and the war would be over.

And thousands of people, innocent, unaware people, would die.

Demi's ship was locked high in orbit, out of reach of the explosion. She didn't want to make this choice, she didn't want this responsibility. A destruction so big. So many lives…So many deaths…

"I put you in charge of this operation knowing that you would make the right choice," Revan said softly. "Don't prove me wrong, General."

"Revan," Demi began weakly. If she was looking for sympathy or understanding, she was talking to the wrong person.

"Do it," Revan said in a hard voice.

Demi closed her eyes, and turned to Bao-Dur, about to nod to grant him permission. _No,_ she told herself. _I have to see this for myself._

She opened her eyes.

And then, she gave the command.

There was a blinding flash of light that rocked the whole ship. Everything was burning. Suddenly, Demi was slammed back. She could hear thousands of voices inside of her, screaming. In terror and fear. She felt like her heart was being ripped out. Her own scream joined the others. She couldn't breath. What was happening?

**::. Ebon Hawk, present time.::**

"No!" Demi gasped out loud, waking up from this nightmare. She seemed to be waking up from dreams so often now. Somebody was screaming in the ship. It took Demi a moment to realize that the scream was her own.

A person came running.

"No!" she shouted again, half delirious.

"Demi!" Leo exclaimed, looking frightened, coming over to her bed, and shaking her. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to!" she yelled, pounding his chest. "I don't want them to die! Stop it!" Her whole body was going berserk.

"What's going on?" demanded Atton, rushing in, panting. "What's wrong with her? Demi?" he inquired, looking at her. He was alarmed and slightly scared.

"They took it from me," Demi whispered to Leo fearfully. "All those deaths…It tore me in half…It stole my power…My Force…But then I realized…there was this Force wave around Malachor V…I did it to myself…" She was crying.

She pounded his chest again, but this time softly, in a fruitless attempt to push down her memories. She was worn out. "It _hurt_. I didn't want to…"

"Shh," said Leo, hugging his sister close, exchanging a worried glance with Atton who was at the doorway. "It's all right. We're here. And you're safe."

Atton could only watch from the shadows as Demi finally quieted and fell asleep again. Leo gently tucked her back in and closed the door.

"What was that about?" Atton asked him, as they headed to the cockpit.

"I…honestly have no idea," Leo said. "A nightmare from the past, perhaps."

Then, at the same moment they said to each other, "Does she do this a lot?"

Leo shook his head chuckling. Atton looked away to hide his smile.

"I mean," he clarified, "you're her brother. You would know, right?"

Leo shrugged, and sat in the co-pilot's seat, as Atton settled back in the pilot's seat.

"I honestly think you know her better than I do," Leo said. "I haven't known Demi long."

Atton looked him over consideringly. He seemed like a mix of the Disciple and Bao-Dur. And something else. Whatever it was, it wasn't too bad.

"And from what you've seen, what d'you think of her?" he asked. It was as though he was asking permission for something.

Leo cocked his head to one side and smiled, as Demi often did, and looked out of the window. "My sister's a feisty one. Sometimes we talk, trying to remember more about our early life on Dxun. She likes her privacy though, Demi does. She doesn't let people get too close to her. I don't know why exactly. When she forms a bond with someone…It's _there_, you know? It's strong. It's real." Leo shook his head. "There's a lot about her I still don't understand. I know she works hard till exhaustion. She cares about people. And she's not easy on herself." He looked over at Atton. "What about you? What made you come after her?"

Atton looked away roughly. Leo had the same kind of eyes as Demi did. "Nothing. Everything. I think you said it all." That was a lie, but he didn't feel like sharing his feelings right now.

This time Leo looked at him consideringly. "You care about her, don't you?"

The stare made Atton uneasy. "Well, I—"

"Sorry," Leo said abruptly, turning away. "That was incredibly stupid of me, wasn't it? Us just meeting, and all."

"Nah, it's fine."

There was silence.

"You like Brianna, don't you?" Atton said suddenly.

Leo flushed. "I—what?"

"Ha! You do, don't you, White-Haired-Boy? I got your number. I heard her telling you some Echani poetry yesterday. You seemed like you were having a good time."

"All right!" Leo said, flustered. "I won't deny she has a pleasant…aura, about her."

Atton laughed. "Aura? Just come out and say it, Leo. You think she's a—GIZKA?!"

"She's not a—" Leo started defensively, then turned around too, and Kalam and Naver, the two gizkas who weren't hurt at all by the crash, were there.

"What is it with gizkas these days?" Atton muttered to himself, turning back to the front. "I swear, they're stalking me."

"I'm going to go and…put these fellas away," Leo mumbled, making a not-so-grand exit, trying to scoop the gizkas in his hands and walking away.

Atton waved a hand. "It was nice talking to you, Leo."

Leo smiled. "Likewise."

And Atton was left alone.

**::. Coruscant.::**

"Dad!" Dustil yelled, bursting into Carth's office and waving a bunch of files around. He dropped them on his desk.

Carth was just staring out of the window, hardly reacting to Dustil at all. His mind was elsewhere.

"I figured it out!" Dustil continued. "Ian, Ian Pace, you're secretary right? Well, I was just checking in the private log files, and I found out he had been inside there almost every day ever since you got a new holovid, the—the one of Elaine jumping off the cliff. He watched it over and over…Okay, so either he's a spy stealing information about all this or…" Dustil frowned, very disturbed. "He has a really, really big crush on Elaine."

Carth shook his head. "How could…How could she not trust me?"

Dustil looked at his dad, concerned. "Dad? What's wrong?"

"I mean…I told her about you, but all along, she was hiding this from me."

"Okay." Dustil knelt in front of his dad. "What was she hiding from you?"

"Ian's not a spy, Dustil. He's…He's Elaine's son."

Dustil, amazed, backtracked. "But…he's my age! And you're older than Elaine! She must have been pretty young when she gave birth to him."

Carth nodded absently. "She was sixteen. She hadn't gone over to the Dark Side yet. She was just…just another person in love."

"Dad, who was the father?"

Carth turned to Dustil, his pools of his eyes conveying a mixture of emotions. Pain, surprise, anger, regret.

"Ian's father, Dustil, was Malak."

Dustil exhaled. "Did he know?"

Carth looked up sharply. "Who? Malak?"

"No, Dad. Ian. I mean, Elaine was…Revan, _before_, and I can't see Revan raising a kid, you know?"

"He knows now," Carth said. "Elaine had him when she was still Revan, but she hadn't turned Dark yet. She left him to grow up where she did, on Deralia, so he would be safe during the Mandalorian Wars. And that was the last she heard of him for a while. But, after many years, she found him, ironically just to say good-bye again. She told him that she had to leave and complete a mission far away. And so, she told him to stay by me because I would protect him, and in turn watch me for her. So he did. And here's where we are today."

"Wow," Dustil said slowly, rising up. "This is…big. Take care, okay, Dad? And don't brood too much. Malak is gone now. You're not him, and he can't be you."

"No…But his memory is still here." Carth laughed hollowly. "They must have all this history together. And that's something that I can never be a part of."

Dustil sighed, sad to see his dad that way. "Good-bye, Dad. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

Carth just nodded absently, as he was once again left alone with his thoughts.

* * *

A/N: Thank goodness for Wikipedia, or else I would know zip about the Mandalorian Wars. :) 


	17. 16: Unspoken

**Chapter 16 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Unspoken

"**Y**ou know," said Malak to Revan, as they made their way through the plains of Dantooine, many, many years ago. Moonlight lighted the sky and cast down upon these two figures. "It's getting dark. Actually, it was dark about twenty minutes ago. It's freeing…and refreshing…but we should get back."

Revan rolled her violet eyes at him, her dark and curly hair embracing the wind. "Where's your sense of adventure, _Master Vrook?_" she said pointedly, a teasing smile on her face.

"Well, Master Atris," replied Malak, easily playing along, "it sort of left me around the same time the warm temperature did."

They were both in their teens, on a late escapade away from the Academy. Malak was tall and walked with long, powerful strides while Revan was slightly shorter with faster and surer steps, leading the way. Wherever she went, he followed, and vice versa. They were an inseparable pair; there was a bond between them of friendship, loyalty, and trust that nothing else could ever break.

Revan looked sideways at her companion. Maybe there was something in the rays of starlight beating down on them that made Malak look different to her. The soft, blue light from the sky seemed to strengthen his features, and she noticed for perhaps the first time just how handsome he really was. Earlier, she would always try to shrug it off. They were just friends. Ever since they had battled away kath hounds together as their first Jedi test, they had been comrades, defying the rules and being mischievous kids together, joking, teasing, talking, playing pranks, laughing. Now, though, Revan didn't know why, but things were different. They were older now, and though their little hooky schemes had not changed, something else had.

Malak noticed it too, and the way the moonlight played on her glittering eyes and soft lips. Looking away, he said, "So. Care to tell me where we're going?"

Revan stopped walking. Her eyes were cast down and dark. "It doesn't matter anymore."

Malak looked at her, alarmed. "What's wrong?"

She looked back up at him. "Do you trust me?"

Malak laughed softly. "Yes. Of course I do. That seems to be the problem, doesn't it? I'd follow you anywhere."

"Do you love me?"

He stared at her, surprised and amazed, as she stood defiant and fearless with a shine in her eyes. Then, he grabbed her roughly to him, and kissed her deeply and passionately, until they were both breathless and wanting for more.

"Does that answer your question?" he said softly, his voice cracking.

Revan's hands lay upon Malak's strong chest, and silently she lay her head against it, just leaning against him, and he stroked her dark hair.

"We should get back," she whispered to him, and he nodded. They let go of each other, and started walking back to the enclave, but at the same time both of them changed their mind, and fell onto the grass, one on top of the other. It was a possessive and addictive kind of dark love they shared. And that night, and the next, and the next, there were only two figures locked in a tight embrace, under the pale moonlight, hidden from any disapproving eye.

**::.The Jedi Academy, much later.::**

Revan sat with her knees propped under her chin, leaning against a column. She watched two young padawans playing rough on the grass. They were laughing, and Revan couldn't help feeling how long ago that felt, when she and Malak were the same.

She walked inside, down the hallways, and to her room. The shades were shut, so it was dark, and only rare slivers of light found their way inside. Revan leaned against the sink, then looked at her reflection. Violet eyes, with tints of red. They hadn't been there before.

And then, just then, she felt something kick inside her. Quickly, she put her hand to her stomach, feeling a small, slight rustle of something in her womb. She gasped and stepped back.

"Rev?" Malak said quietly, opening the door and coming in.

"Malak," she said, her eyes burning. "There's something inside of me. It's moving and trapped and I can't get it out of me." She looked up at him, desperately.

Malak stared at her for a moment, then shut the door, and strode over to the window. He peered through the window for a moment, then closed the shades completely, satisfied that no one was watching or listening. It was even more dark now.

"Are you sure?" he said quietly.

"Yes."

He wrapped two arms around her, as though to keep her safe.

"We don't need it," Malak whispered into her ear. "We don't have time for this. Whoever heard of a pregnant Jedi warrior anyway?"

Revan pulled back suddenly. "Can you hear yourself? No time? It? We don't even know if it's a boy or girl. It's _inside_ me, Malak. I don't have a choice." She took a deep breath. "What are we going to do? I…I don't…understand this. Any of it."

"I know somebody," Malak said finally. "A settler. I think she's a midwife. She can help you, and then she could take care of…the baby for us. Since we can't."

"I'm not giving my own away!" Revan said angrily.

"Listen, we don't have a choice!" Malak said, his voice loud and powerful, standing up.

Fearfully, they both looked around, hoping nobody had heard them.

"We don't have a choice," Malak repeated, more quietly now. "This…is new territory, Revan. And we don't understand any of it. Face it, Rev. We can't take care of any child right now. We're not ready."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before—"

Malak put up a finger to stop her. "It's both of us. It's both of our responsibility. I'm not denying that."

Tears fell down Revan's face. "I'm sixteen years old, Malak. And I'm carrying…_life_ inside of me. Can you even try to understand what I'm feeling right now?" She tried to smile. "I'm going to be a mother, Malak. And you…you're going to be a father."

Malak didn't reply. His face was stone.

Revan noticed this, and the smile disappeared. "Get out of my room," she said through clenched teeth.

"What?" Malak said in surprise, looking up.

"You heard me. Get out!" she yelled, throwing an empty lightsaber hilt at him. Of course, he ducked in time. The hilt forged an indent in the wall behind him. "You don't want anything to do with this, do you? It's just…do your friend, and move on. Isn't that so, Malak? Is there somebody else waiting in line?!"

"You're insane, Revan," Malak said.

"Really?" Revan said icily. "You know, this thing that I'm carrying inside of me…It's part of you, too. And you're just going to turn your back on that. So, really, who's the insane one now?"

There was an ugly silence for a few moments.

"We have to get to class," Malak said quietly.

"You go," Revan said, not looking at him. "Go. Give Vrook my regards, and all that."

Malak started to leave, then came back. "Do you need anything?"

"No," Revan said coldly, then shifted in bed. "Actually…I'm hungry. Do you think you can scrape me something? Something cold and fruity."

Malak nodded. "I'll come back when I can."

And shut the door.

"Bye," Revan whispered. Alone. In the dark. But mostly, alone. Then, she put her hand to her stomach. The lump was barely visible at the moment, especially if she didn't wear tight robes, but soon she wouldn't be able to hide it at all. She sighed, feeling something in there wiggle again.

She wasn't really alone, was she?

**::.Later.::**

Malak held her close, looking over their shoulder. "We're almost there," he whispered. "But keep going. I don't think anyone's following, but we're not safe yet."

From behind her hood, Revan tried a smile, but she grimaced, clutching her middle. Malak was fully supporting her, as they walked as fast as they could to the midwife. It was time.

"You know," she gasped, "I think I'd rather take on another ambush of kath hounds right now, then go through this pain…"

"Shh," Malak admonished. "If we're not careful, we might end up getting both at the same time, and that wouldn't be any good, would it?"

"Trying to scare me, Mister Malak?" But just then, great spasms of pain tore over her, and she gasped, clutching herself around the middle, giving up from their slow progress for a moment.

"Hold on, Rev," Malak declared, kicking open the midwife's door.

An old lady who had been preparing her afternoon meal looked up in alarm.

"She needs help," Malak said, resting Revan on the bed, her head on a pillow. "She thinks it's—well, _time_, if you know what I mean."

"She's certainly along, yes," said the midwife, wetting a cloth and placing it on Revan's sweating forehead. "Breathe, darling. Breathe."

Revan squeezed Malak's hand. "Wait outside," she managed to mouth, before grimacing as another wave of cramps hit her.

Malak nodded, and swept away, trying not to show his nervousness. He had to be strong, for her. Besides, he wasn't the one in overwhelming pain right now. She was. But she was Revan, and he knew she would conquer over this and win. However, the calming Dantooine breeze did nothing to quench his fears. He tried not to hear Revan's cries of pain from inside the house. It may have been maybe a few hours when he felt the tension cease, and he tentatively opened the door.

Revan now sat up in bed, and in her arms, wrapped in blankets, was something too small to be humanely possible. Revan cooed down at the little bundle, her miracle.

"We have a son," she whispered, smiling warmly.

The midwife took away the bloody sheets and congratulated them both. "Have you thought of a name yet?" she asked.

Malak swallowed. "You decide," he said to Revan.

Revan sighed. "Mmm…" She looked down at the baby's yellow eyes and curving mouth laughing in delight. "Ian." She looked up. "He's an Ian. Do you want to hold him?" Ian's devilish, little, soft fingers were grasping in the air.

Malak didn't have time to reply, because little Ian was suddenly handed to him.

"Don't drop him," Revan warned, laughing. "Support his head, too."

Malak looked down. "He has my eyes," he managed to say.

"Yes." There were happy tears lighting on her face. "He does."

"My son," Malak said softly.

Just then, Ian burst into tears, and ear-wrenching sobs and wails. Blinking and shaken, Malak hastily thrust Ian back to Revan.

"It's all right," Revan said to Ian. The she looked up at Malak. "It's all right."

**::.Later.::**

Ian stayed with the midwife, named Pexelia, for the majority of his adolescent years, but every night Revan snuck away to see and take care of her son. Sometimes Malak came, but mostly he didn't. He didn't feel as though he had a part to play, and if he did, he didn't know how to play it. He couldn't fulfill the expectancy in his Revan's eyes. But all she wanted was for him to be there.

Malak had to cover for Revan whenever the Masters came to check up on her—which was often, as though they suspected something, but couldn't quite pinpoint it. And although he didn't want to admit it, it hurt him in some way to see Revan's attention divided between him and Ian this way. Revan, his comrade and lover way before Ian was born. Because of Ian, their late night escapades were stopped. And because of Ian things were not as they should be. This was partly Malak's fault, too, he knew that. He even regretted Ian.

Malak felt, deep inside, that he was never meant to be a father. He had never had a father figure himself, so how exactly was he supposed to know what to do?

Ian was also putting a strain on Revan, he could see. When Malak saw her in the morning,

there were circles under her eyes, she couldn't concentrate, and every worry she had was centered on Ian. She was stressed out, and a dark part of Malak couldn't help but place the blame on little Ian.

And so, Ian grew up without a father.

**::.A few years later.::**

"Mama?" Ian inquired, clinging to Revan's hand. He was six years old. "I don't understand."

Revan sighed and got on her knees so she was eye level with Ian. "There are bad guys out, Ian. And they want to take over the galaxy. They are killing innocent people and conquering many planets. Your father and I are going to stop them, whether the Council wants us to or not."

"Why don't they want you to?" Ian asked, his yellow eyes wide. "Are the Council bad guys too?"

"No, no," Revan admonished. "It's…complicated."

"You're leaving me," Ian said quietly.

"Yes," Revan said. "I don't want to, though."

Sadly, Ian pressed his head against her neck, trying to muffle his sobs. "Don't go then, Mama. Stay here with me, please?"

"You're breaking my heart," Revan said, with a sad smile. She kissed him on the forehead, brushing away some of his thick, black curls. "I'm needed out there, though, Ian. Do you understand?"

"I need you too, though," Ian protested.

"I love you, Ian," Revan said seriously. "But we can't be safe together until I help fight this war."

"People die in war," Ian said. "Pex said so."

Revan gave a look to the midwife, who shrugged apologetically, going back to washing the dishes.

"Look at me, Ian," Revan said, placing a hand lightly on either side of his face. "You are going to do great things. You are _my_ son. My son. And I know that your kind, loving heart will take you places."

"Like where?" he asked.

Revan sighed. "Deralia. That's where I was born. You'll stay with some close friends of mine, and they'll take care of you just like Pex has. You'll be safe there, far away from the Mandalorians, hopefully."

"Why won't _you_ take care of me?" Ian said, brushing away and holding up two small fists clenched tightly. "I can fight the bad guys with you!"

"No, Ian," said Revan sorrowfully. "I love you too much to put you in danger. Malak and I will handle the war, okay? Trust me, baby."

Ian was silent for a moment. "Does Dad love me? I don't think he does. He never talks to me or comes to see me. I think…I think he's afraid of me."

"Oh, honey, no. No, I know he loves you, I know he does. He just has a hard time showing affection."

"He never seems to have a hard time showing it with you," said Ian cheekily.

Revan blushed and laughed despite herself.

"I have to see him!" Ian said suddenly. "I have to see my dad! One last time!"

"You can't," Revan said, holding him tight. "He's busy. He's making a speech now, I think. Trying to motivate more Jedi to join us. I hear a Demia Thress, a powerful one, has joined our ranks. I'm supposed to join your father in a moment."

"I want to come!" Ian cried, attempting to push past her.

"No." Revan said forcefully. "Ian, nobody knows you exist and it has to stay that way. If anyone finds out, they—they might take you away." She trailed off, worried. "You're in hiding. That's why you're here with Pexelia."

"I don't exist?" Ian said slowly, horrified. "Why? What's wrong with me?"

"There is nothing wrong with you!" Revan exclaimed, shocked. "It's…it's not your fault. Believe me." Then Revan smiled. "It's like a game, see? You're like a spy, undercover from bad guys and all people until I find you again. You're even going to have a spy name. Don't you like that?"

"Spy name?" Ian said, alarmed. Then he grinned, lighting Revan's day. "I want to be Pace! After the super Jedi stories Pex was telling me."

"That's perfect," Revan declared. "Ian Pace. It has a ring to it."

The mother and son looked at each other and just smiled for a moment, then Revan hugged him close. She never wanted time to end. But it was time to let go.

"Be strong for me," she said to Ian, searching his eyes. "Okay?"

Ian started to shake his head, then nodded. "I will. You be strong too," he said suddenly.

Revan smiled, surprised. "I promise."

Revan stood up, and turned to Pexelia. "Thank you for all your help. I have some credits, as a token of my gratitude."

Pex waited until Ian went to his room, before turning to Revan. "What, exactly, do you think you are doing?" she said sharply. This was the first time she had ever spoken to Revan like that.

Revan blinked in surprise. "What?" Then she laughed. "Oh, I see. You don't want the credits. No offense intended."

"No, that's not it at all." Pex threw down the spatula into the pot, aggravated. "What," she said, enunciating the words clearly. "—do you think you are doing?"

"I think," said Revan, "that I am protecting my son."

"No! You are abandoning him. You are leaving him to grow up with no parents. Already, his father has disowned him, refusing to look him in the eye for his own reasons. And now, you."

"I don't have a choice, Pex," said Revan. "I'm trying to be responsible."

"That's the last thing in the world you were doing when you were conceived with him! You and Malak were young. And Jedi, no less. With potential. Power. And a code to follow. And you threw it all away when you made one wrong choice, one careless mistake."

"I'm not sorry for having Ian," Revan said coldly, locking eyes with Pexelia. "I'm not sorry at all. I love him."

"I do too," said Pexelia evenly. Revan realized that Pex, this harmless old lady, was not scared of her. Not at all. "And I've been the one who has looking after him all these years, not you."

"Is there a point to this?" Revan said, throwing up her hands.

"Yes." Pexelia wiped her hands on a towel, then turned to Revan. "Now, as you head into this war, you are going to be faced with more challenges, with more burdens, and with the lives of more soldiers and people than you can imagine. And I won't let you abandon them like you have Ian."

"I have not abandoned him," Revan said quietly. "I'm coming back for him."

"I am not threatening you," Pex said calmly. "You may not even take the words of an old busy-body to heart, but I just want you to listen. I have kept out of your business for long enough, but now I want you to be aware. I have been watching you, and the more I do, the more I notice the influence you have with others, how you can sway and persuade a whole crowd of people with just a few words. I don't want you to use this lightly. Use this talent for the right thing, will you? Do this for somebody who has been watching over your child for six years now, with no greed for credits or anything else credits can buy." She paused, looking at Revan seriously. "Do this for Ian."

Revan held her gaze. "You think you know my son better than me, don't you?"

Pexelia sighed. "I don't know. Your bond with him runs deep, blood, thoughts, traits, and all. But I have been there for him when you and Malak haven't. I deserve that credit."

"That isn't my fault," Revan said softly.

"Maybe not," Pex agreed. "But you do deserve some of the blame."

"I don't have to listen to this," Revan said angrily, striding over to the door.

"Remember what I said!" Pex called after her, as Revan stepped out and slammed the door. "Do it for Ian!"

Inside his small room, Ian stood listening at the door, confused. Eventually, he heard the sounds he had grown accustomed to: The clattering of dishes in the sink, the sound of things being tidied away, then Pex opening the door to her own room, then closing it.

Everyone was shutting him out or leaving him behind. And Ian would never fully understand why.

**::.During the Mandalorian Wars.::**

There was a planet looming ahead of their ship. It was sparkling with some kind of light blue energy all around it. But the more Revan looked, the more it seemed to contain more than just blue in its depths. She could see faint hues of silver and red, rippling in motion, and then they disappeared. This outer covering was crackling and glowing.

Revan pointed toward the planet, entranced. "There. What is that?"

The pilot swallowed. "I'm not sure, ma'am. I know it's not that Malachor V you're looking for. All I know is, the atmosphere is too thick for us to penetrate through. We'd die trying."

"Do you know the planet's name?"

"No. I'm sorry, Revan."

"Stop the ship and lower the bridge near the planet," Revan ordered, heading out.

Malak stopped her on the way, laying two hands on her shoulders. His jaw had been lost during a lightsaber duel earlier on, and was now replaced with a durasteel plate, covering him from below his nose and down. His voice, only heard through a vocabulator, echoed strangely, hollowly, even more powerful, yet stranger, than before.

"Where do you think you're going?" he inquired of Revan.

"Out. I'll put on an environmental suit. I….There's something _familiar_ about this place," Revan said slowly. "I don't know what, exactly. But it's calling me."

"Planets don't _call_ to people, Rev. They're just planets." His eyes tried to understand. They were the only way he could really convey or communicate emotion anymore, his eyes. Because of the injury, his voice couldn't sound compassionate any longer, not as he used to. So where his voice couldn't show what he felt, his eyes did. And Revan understood that.

Sadly, she traced her finger softly around his now mechanical jaw and Malak closed his eyes. He could still feel, slightly, underneath it all, from the vibration of her fingertips. And inside too. Always inside.

"This is hard to explain," Revan said, choosing her words carefully, dropping her hand lightly. "But…ever since we came out here to fight the war…it just feels right somehow. I don't know how, or when, but…" She looked up at him. "I've been here before."

Malak was startled. "I've known you since we were Younglings. And you told me yourself, that first day, you were born in Derlia. How is this possible?"

Revan smiled. "Vacation getaway?" She sighed. "I don't know. But this is what I've been looking for, I'm sure of it. This is something I have to find out myself."

Malak nodded. "We only have one suit. So I can't go with you. Just don't…"

"Trip?" Revan questioned.

Malak nodded. "Or fall."

"You'll catch me," Revan said, so assured, as she headed off, past the crew.

Malak watched her go. Cue that loneliness.

"What's she doing?" the pilot exclaimed, rushing up. He didn't want the death of Revan, famous Jedi, powerful leader of the Mandalorian Wars, on his hands. "That atmosphere is too thick. There's…something stopping us from getting in. So what, exactly, is she going to try to do?"

"Remember how to get in," said Malak. "That is the key. She may have lost it, maybe not. There must be some sort of…trick…to getting inside. And she says she's been here before. Maybe it'll come back to her."

"And if not?"

Malak whirled on him, and the pilot instinctively took a step back. "Sir," he added quickly.

"There is no 'if not,' you fool," Malak said angrily, heading away with his long strides. "Never. And you'd do well to remember that."

Outside, Revan stood tentatively on the bridge. It led from the ship, and acted as a walkway to the sparkling blue barrier of the planet. One small wrong move, and she would fall…far. But she didn't look down. She didn't want to see the neverending blackness. That would just distract her. And moving in this suit was already too hard and obstructing.

Slowly, she took one step towards her goal, and another. And then, she was right in front of it. She lifted up her right hand, and thrust it inside the barrier.

Revan felt the weirdest sensation. Like a tingling, spreading from her hand, to her arm, to her whole body. It didn't hurt though. It was like an invitation to come in. The barrier was now crackling with some sort of purple energy, all around the space that Revan had opened. It turned dark black.

Revan took another step in, so that her face beneath the global environment suit was fully in it, as well as half of her body. And then she almost stumbled. Whatever this atmosphere was, it was sucking her in, draining her, swallowing her whole. It was hard to see. Hard to breathe. Dark lights imploded before her eyes.

_You do not belong here,_ said a voice inside her thoughts suddenly, deep and male, shocking her and making her heart jump. Revan was certain she had heard this voice before. A distant memory…tugging. _You are not yet ready. You have not yet passed. Let this be your lesson._

And then, the barrier turned light blue again, almost white, all around her now, and Revan screamed. Energy, like lightning, hit her in the eyes. She felt on fire. Her eyesight, once crystal clear, now seemed to be slowly getting more blurry…

_What's happening?_ she wondered wildly.

And then, the barrier shot her back, and she tumbled back into the ship with a bang. Coughing, Revan put up the visor helmet, and tore off the suit.

Malak rushed over to her, as the pilot up front closed the exit and the bridge.

"Revan! What happened?!"

"Exactly what I was wondering." Revan took a few deep breaths, and then looked up. She could barely see Malak's face. "My…my vision."

"What do you need?" Malak said, kneeling down in front of her, taking her face in his hands. It was times like these that he missed the thought of being able to kiss her.

"Verpine Headband. For my eyesight." She smiled shrewdly. "A half-blind famous Jedi, leading a crusade. Now, isn't that lovely?"

"Dirk!" Malak bellowed, and the soldiers nearby jumped. "Fetch me a Verpine Headband!"

"Please," Revan added.

"Now!" Malak yelled.

Revan rolled her eyes. Malak started to stand up, but she took his hand, so he stayed down. "There was a voice," she whispered to him. "I know I've heard it before. I'm so sure of it. I'd bet my life on it."

"You almost did," Malak said, just as quietly.

"And the voice said I wasn't ready. That…that I hadn't proven myself yet. Or something of that sort. I feel too dizzy to remember."

"You need to rest," Malak insisted.

"No." Revan said this firmly, getting to her feet. She took the Verpine Headband from the officer gratefully, and activated it. Her violet eyes, with more red sparks than ever, glittered beneath the pink accessory. Her awareness of her surroundings was immediately increased, and her eyesight improved immensely. "I need to go. And prove myself. I need to go back there, afterwards."

She headed off towards the front of the ship.

"Why?" Malak demanded. "What is so important about that damn planet?"

"Because," Revan said, locking eyes with him. "That feeling that is making me go after Malachor V even now? This was part of it. Malachor V, and this place…They're connected. I just don't know how yet. And that voice… It wasn't just an instinct. It was…" She swallowed. "It was the call of my old home."

She headed back to the pilot. "Save the coordinates of this planet in our databank," she instructed. "We're going to find Malachor V," she declared, her dark hair falling over one of her eyes. "I'm going to find out the truth about this place. And then, when I find out what I need to pass through the barrier enclosing this whole planet…We'll come back."

The pilot revved up the ship, and they shot through space. Revan looked distantly out into the galaxy, a determinedness in her eyes, a sparkle, a glimmer, one that even Malak could not touch.

So, as always, he stood back, behind her, as she led on into whatever was awaiting them.

**::.Much, much later.::**

They ventured inside the Trayus Academy inside Malachor V. Some would later say Revan was corrupted by the dark teachings there, others said that she did not fall, rather she sacrificed herself into it, because only then would she be capable of saving the galaxy from this new threat, the 'True Sith.' She went under the title Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith, and Darth Malak stood at her side. They won the Mandalorian Wars and defeated Mandalore the Ultimate. They built a powerful force, for to save the Republic, Revan had to invade it first. And beyond the thoughts of the Star Forge, and through the Jedi Civil War, there was always one planet at the back of her thoughts…Which she now knew to be called Nausuma.

But then Bastila Shan came into the picture, Revan was captured, and was then filled with the false memories of being an 'Elaine Skylar.' Malak had long since turned on her, betrayed her. And as all the past memories of darkness evaporated from her mind, or rather, hid themselves away in her, she traveled the road of the Light, of her own choice.

Now, Elaine Skylar lighted her two violet lightsabers and stood before Malak, her own former friend, comrade, and lover. With whom she had battled away kath hounds with on her very first day at the Academy. With whom she had laughed with and made fun of the Jedi Masters with. With whom she had always had at her side, fighting together, taking over the galaxy together. With whom she had once trusted her life. And with whom she shared a son. For now, as she recalled her past as Revan, it brought back memories of a certain Ian Pace, who was certainly no longer a little kid. He had grown. But before she could see him, she had one more thing to do.

Malak stood, waiting, tall and foreboding, holding his lightsaber with only one hand, dressed in red, a dark cape over one shoulder.

And as they fought, lightsabers crashing, sparks flying, no words were spoken. Malak once may have communicated with his voice, and then his eyes, but now it was just pure body language. With each hit, with each strike, Elaine poured out all of her inner sufferings and turmoils. Each denial, each anger, each greed, each fear. Usually, when she fought, she would try to push down her feelings. It was just automatic, a fuel that energized her to fight, not to think. No coherent thought other than the battle plan. No feeling. Just a grace she possessed, knocking down her victims blow by blow. Now, though, it was a dance. And a dance reserved especially for this one moment, the one they had both, unknowingly, been waiting for for many years.

Elaine delivered the fatal blow, and Malak fell, clutching his side.

"Im…impossible," he said, looking at his palm and seeing his blood. "I…I cannot be beaten. I am the Dark Lord of the Sith."

Elaine's eyes were unreadable. There were no more red sparks in them, not any longer. There may have been some more anger, regret, sadness, even pity. "So was I," she said softly. "And I fell. I fell so softly, so subtly, that I didn't even notice it. But I've learned much, Malak, old friend. And the Dark Side…it ends in death."

Malak laughed harshly, although it hurt to do so. "Still…still spouting the wisdom of the Jedi, I see. Maybe there is more truth in their code than I ever believed. I…I cannot help but wonder, Revan. What would have happened had our positions been reversed? What if fate had decreed I would be captured by the Jedi? Could I have returned to the Light, as you did? If you had not led me down the Dark Path in the first place, what destiny would I have found?"

Elaine sat down beside him, switching off her lightsaber, but still holding it at the ready. "I'm sorry I started you on this path. But you chose to continue down it."

"I suppose…I suppose you speak the truth. I alone must accept responsibility for my fate. I wanted to be Master of the Sith and ruler of the galaxy. But that destiny was not mine, Revan. It might have been yours, perhaps…but never mine."

"Our son," Elaine said suddenly. "I will watch over him as much as I can, although it may never be enough for all of these years. Ian." A smile lighted her face briefly at the memory. "He will do great things, Malak. I know he will."

Malak stared at her, and Elaine did the same. He was so broken. He would be gone very soon. "Perhaps," he said, even softer. "Rev…" He winced, and lay his head back. "You love him, don't you? The soldier? The pilot?"

"Carth," Elaine breathed. She bowed her head. "I do, Malak. I do."

Malak sighed. "So many things between us unspoken. But now, in the end, as the darkness takes me… I am nothing." His voice drifted off.

Elaine let his hand drop, as his soul departed right before her eyes. "Good-bye," she whispered to her old friend. "Good-bye."

**::.Deralia, later.::**

It was raining, but that wasn't much different from the Deralia she once remembered.

Was this really where she was born? Or was this one of those fake memories instilled within her? It didn't matter. To her, it was still home. Or one of them. And even if it was not real, just like her new name, it was one thing that she would keep. It was now a part of her, and no matter what the past said, nothing could change that.

It took a while to find the right house in the rain. The Verpine Headband kept getting drenched with all of the rain drops, which didn't help at all.

Then, she reached the door, the door Pexelia had no doubt dropped Ian off at, before returning back home to Dantooine many years before. The rain was coming down more viciously now, and the sky was a deep, depressing gray. She missed the sunset here, but it had disappeared many minutes ago.

With one cold hand and five trembling fingers, she knocked on the door. And waited. And waited.

She was chilled to the bone, yet somehow, she felt she deserved this. Being shut out for once, left in the dark, in the cold, in the wet, just like how Ian undoubtedly had been all these years.

But finally, the door swung open and there he was.

She didn't know what she had been expecting, exactly. Elaine knew he would definitely not be the little, chubby six year old she had grown to love. She knew he would be about Dustil's age. Maybe he wouldn't even be in the house. He might have gone off to some other planet and explored, filled with adventurous, youthful spirit. He may slam the door in her face at the sight of her, if he had heard knews about her going all Darth-y. He might not. Elaine had tried to avoid these thoughts until she actually reached the reality, a fantasy played out in both of their heads for many years now. The only difference was, with Ian, his father had also been in the scene.

Ian was taller than her now, which startled her, although it shouldn't have. He still had his thick, black curls all over his head, messy and tangled, but it suited him. He was handsome, and in his teens right now. Elaine was too cold to do the math. And there were his eyes. Yellow and mellow, yet piercing at the same time. Filled with emotion. Eyes that would follow her, eyes that would always remind her of his father.

"Ian," she murmured. She felt numb from the cold. "Remember me? Or has it been too long?"

"Are you real?" he asked her, as though in a trance. Then he shook his head, and made room for her to get inside. "You're wet," he said bluntly.

"That I am," Elaine agreed, rubbing her arms to try to get warmth and feeling back in them again. Her dark blue Jedi robes were soaking wet, but that didn't matter now. The house with the rounded ceiling was, in contrast with Ian, as she remembered it. Warm, cozy, inviting.

Ian got out some caffa for the both of them, and Elaine eagerly poured a thick swirl of Corellian honey in hers. Ian just watched her across the table, not touching his, with a kind of intensity that his father once possessed.

Elaine held the mug in her hands, savoring its heat in her hands. Sure, she could proclaim speeches to thousands of soldiers, but this was different. So many things to say, so many different ways to say it, and she still wasn't sure how Ian honestly felt about her returning. It would have been all right if they had started out with a hug, but they hadn't. Maybe that had been partly because she was so wet. Maybe. She couldn't blame him if that had been the case.

"Where's everybody?" she managed to say. "I haven't seen old Geena in a long time."

"Town meeting," Ian said. "They probably got rained in, or something equally non-interesting."

"Ah." She opened her mouth to say something more, but Ian put up a hand to silence her.

"No. Don't say anything," he said. "It's my turn now." He took a deep breath, and Elaine inwardly flinched. _This can't be good,_ she thought inwardly. But if he needed to vent, then let him vent. She wasn't going to stop him.

"I'm not stupid," was the first thing he said. "I know you've been busy. I've been keeping an ear out for your name. I hear some Darths before it, both yours and Dad's, and I think, that can't be right. Then I hear about your victory during the Mandalorian Wars. Then I hear about the Jedi Civil War…where your name just disappeared. And that's when I start wondering what happened to you. Although it's not too different, this disappearing act you seem fond of."

"I—" Elaine started.

"But that's not all. See, it gets better."

"I honestly doubt that," Elaine muttered.

"I was listening to the holonet news a few days ago, and apparently somebody by the name of Darth Malak was killed." He looked up to meet his mother's gaze. "That was you, wasn't it?"

Elaine sighed. "I'm not proud of it. I'm _sorry_, but it was neccessary—"

"No," Ian cut in. "You did the right thing."

They met each other's gaze over the caffa.

There were Malak's eyes again.

And then, suddenly, Elaine dropped the mug on the table and started to cry. Right then. Right in front of her son, who she was supposed to always be strong for. She started to cry these hot, hot tears that sped down her face as she shoulders shook, and she cried like she would never, ever stop, her face in her hands.

Instantly, Ian came over to the couch she was sitting on, and wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.

"I've missed you," he whispered softly into her ear.

That just made Elaine cry harder. For herself, for her son who she had abandoned. What had happened to him that made him mature like this? Oh, right. Life. She cried for all these false memories, she cried for the weight of the galaxy that was on her shoulders, she cried for being Darth Revan, she cried for all of those she had hurt in the past. She cried for Carth, for Mission, for Canderous, Bastila, everybody. Everybody she had left on the _Ebon Hawk_, as she left for Nausuma and whatever else awaited her, because now she knew the secret to entering that planet, and now she was ready. But that was really the last thing she felt.

And finally, she shed tears for Malak. Something she had been holding in. She didn't want anyone to ever know.

Ian knew, and though he didn't cry—he was probably too manly, or something, Elaine thought—there was this great ache in his chest that welled up in joy then sobered down again in sadness and loss, because he knew she was leaving again. He just knew.

The _Hawk_ was still on Deralia while the rest of the crew was asleep, and Elaine had to make her quick getaway before they woke. She needed to start her journey into the Outer Rim as soon as possible.

Elaine finally pulled away, brushing away one of his dark curls, similar to her own. "Oh, my son," she breathed, smiling sadly. "I am a horrible mother."

"It's okay," Ian said. "And you're not. You came back."

"But I'm leaving."

"I know. And I can't stop you, can I?"

Elaine shook her head. "No." She took a deep breath. Quickly, she filled him in on this new mission, and told him that there was a favor, a very important one, that she needed him to do for her. And that was, of course, after waiting a few weeks, to go to Coruscant, where Elaine knew the crew, at least some of them, would eventually go, after realizing a search after her was fruitless.

"You'll stay with Carth. I know for a fact that he will be promoted, and that there will surely be a job opening for you. And you won't be alone anymore."

Ian nodded.

"However—"

"The catch?"

Elaine nodded. "You can't…you can't tell him that you're my son. Because—"

"I get it," Ian interrupted. "I really do."

"I wish there was more time," Elaine said despairingly, wringing her hands.

"There will be," Ian insisted. "After this whole saving-the-galaxy hobby of yours gets hobbied out. It will, eventually, right?" he said, worried.

Elaine smiled. "I hope so. But I feel I have many more battles ahead of me."

There was a pause. "Someday, could I fight some of them beside you?"

Elaine looked at him. Tall like his father, and with some training he'd no doubt be very strong. Elaine knew the Force was in him, and that someday, it would be harnessed and collected and mastered. "I think you can," Elaine said slowly. "Someday."

They shared another sad smile.

"I have to go," Elaine whispered, fearfully. "There's so much I want to talk about with you."

"There's a shuttle nearby that you can purchase," Ian said, talking quickly now. "It's in this underground factory, but there's an opening through this sea cliff that lets ships in and out. I can pitch in some credits, maybe even haggle a discount for you. I think it'll take you wherever you want to go."

"I think I remember where it is," Elaine said.

The next few minutes hurried by all too soon for the both of them. It must have been the rain. Rain sometimes fogs out bits of memory and makes things go by too quickly, at least for Elaine. That time she had spent out in the rain, looking for this house, felt a whole lot longer than it actually had been, but looking back on it, it was all a blur. Just like now.

The lifting of a silver grate by a hill. The lighted torches as they sped down a spiralling ramp to the underground factory. Quick business with buying a shuttle. And a quick kiss on Ian's forehead, and a long, long hug. It was all very wet, considering the rain, but neither of them cared at all.

"You will do great things," Elaine whispered in Ian's ear. "I know you will."

Ian just held on tight.

"Bye," Elaine whispered, letting go of her son, and climbing into the shuttle before she could change her mind.

"Come on Elaine," she prodded herself, activating the engine, glad for once that she had participated in all of those swoop racing events. "Whoever heard of a former Sith Lord afraid of heights?"

Ian stood on the ground, as the shuttle unfolded its wings, and sped away into the grey. He remembered thinking how unfair it was that her shuttle disappeared so fast, the rain and clouds obscuring her from his view all too soon. It was also hard to convince himself that, yes, she really had been here, leaving behind barely a trace except for a more heavy heart within him, laden with burdens and a brief touch of motherly love he had been deprived of for a long time, one that had been snatched away all too soon.

Now he understood why she did the things she did, however, and maybe that made it a little easier. Maybe a little harder. But he had to remember that she had given him a mission to do, and that he would still use his 'spy' name as he had all these years.

"You will do great things," she had said.

Ian stuck his hands in his pockets, looked at the ground once, the sky longer, then turned around and did not look back at all. He did not want to prove her wrong.

* * *

A/N: Oh man, the drama. I think this is my longest chapter yet. But I did enjoy getting to know my characters better, especially Elaine and Ian. I was actually planning on making this whole Revan and Malak background much shorter, but these scenes kept writing themselves, so everything else got pushed to the next chapter, but it seems to fit that way. Kudos. :) (I must find myself a new saying…) 


	18. 17: I'm Nobody, Who Are You?

**Chapter 17 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: I'm Nobody; Who are You?

From Demi's datapad:

_It is my birthday and I am cold and confused. _

_Maybe that's an understatement. I can hear the vibration of the Ebon Hawk's engine, the light breath of sleep from behind closed doors, the many stars scattered like jewels to the sky, and I have never felt so alone._

_No one knows it's my birthday and maybe it's better that way. What does it mean, anyway? I'm just one year closer to whatever awaits me, something I'm not even sure I should look forward to._

_My birthday is almost over and I haven't done anything remotely important or exciting yet. I don't think I deserve it. There are so many things that I have done that I don't understand. There are so many people whose lives I have touched, however briefly, and I wonder how it feels like to be them. Do you even have a choice as to who you can be, or is your fate automatically written down by some greater power? Can you really, truly change if you want to?_

_See, it's my birthday and I'm locked away inside the gun turret, writing down these thoughts because I felt I needed to. I write when I need to understand something, just like Kavar told me to long ago, but what makes it all the more worse is the fact that I'm not really sure what I'm trying to understand in the first place._

_Which, all in all, makes me stuck in quite a dilemma._

_A very sad, pathetic dilemma._

_I'm supposed to always be so sure of myself all the time, this leader Jedi-General figurehead, ready to brave face-on the dangers of the unknown._

_But I'm not._

_What I really am is a lost person with a forgotten past, an exiled home, with so many confusing and annoying thoughts in my head, it's hard to think straight._

_Revan? Kavar? Atris? Nausuma?_

_I just want to forget everything._

_I think I have a death wish._

_No. I'm pretty sure I have a death wish._

_Imagine that. It being my birthday and all, and I'm thinking about how pleasant it would be to just die. There must be some kind of rule against that. Besides, birthdays are supposed to be about life, not death. What is death, anyway? For someone who has committed a lot of it, I really don't know. What happens? Do we just cease to exist and become this big expanse of nothingness? What happens to us and our memories? Where do we go? Will anyone remember us at all? Or even want to?_

_Am I even important?_

_Force. Enough with the deep questions. It' s just so hard to push them down sometimes. You can't keep from wondering. Especially on depressing nights like these._

_I think, sometimes, when I fight, I'm not just fighting to protect people, or for the good of the galaxy. I'm fighting, trying to find that one worthy, stronger person who can grant me that death wish. _

_But so far, nobody can keep up._

_Force, Demia Thress. People are supposed to fight to prevent themselves or others from dying, not fight so they _can_ die._

_I really am a mess._

_Which, I suppose, has been proven, what with my locked-in-a-gun-turret-writing-depressing-thoughts-on-my-birthday-nontheless antics._

_Atton once told me he knows what it's like when you just want to get lost. I think I already am._

_Dxun? Marian? Leo?_

_My past is supposed to help me build a stronger future. I am one of the last Jedi, I must not forget that. I cannot deny the big role I play in this game, whatever this role and game and outcome is. I can't just throw my life away, selfishly, while the rest of the galaxy burns, falling in pieces, around me, beneath me._

_Sometimes I wish I could._

_But someone is preventing me._

_Atton._

_I'm not sure how he knows, but somehow, subconsciously, he does. Maybe he knows the feeling._

_Atton. _

_Just when you think things can't possibly get anymore confusing, in on cue he comes. Much too good-looking for his own good, a sarcastic and shrewd façade covers up his dark past, his true longings, and a sensitive nature rarely seen._

_We are complete opposites, yet too much alike._

_We both carry tempers, burdens, secrets, lusts, and an understanding with each other I can't even begin to describe, or ironically, understand. I don't know what he wants, and there is so much we don't know about each other, but sometimes I feel like he knows me better than anyone else. He sees through the person trying to be brave all the time, and that scares me._

_Nevertheless, he is always there, ready to catch, or ready to fall._

_I have always been taught to hide my feelings and emotions, and it is with him that I have to struggle the most with to push them down. Atton is, as he told me long ago, as Atton as Atton ever will be, and whatever that means, I know it means a lot._

_Overall, I don't know why it's me that's in this role. I am more than certain that somewhere, out there, there is a more worthy, beautiful, passionate, stronger person, who is more prepared for what the worlds will through at her than I am, but what I do know is that it was me who was chosen._

_I will fight as hard as I have never fought before, for myself and for others, for the good of the galaxy (a cliché if I ever heard one), carrying faith inside of me because perhaps that is all I have left._

_So happy birthday to me, whoever that is, for the gift I give to myself is that promise._

_And now, if nothing else, that I know._

_Over & Out. Demi._

**::.The Ebon Hawk.::**

Demi woke up the next morning to the hum of the engine, as well as to a slight crick in her neck. Looking around groggily, she realized that she had fallen asleep in the gun turret, curled up in a corner, and was still in yesterday's robes.

"Perfect," she muttered, getting up and immediately hitting her head on the ceiling. "Ouch!" She doubled over, rubbing her head, and got up more carefully.

She was now eye level with the empty cardboard box, which, before the crash on Deralia, the gizkas had once occupied. Demi had forgotten all about them.

"Are they even still alive?" she wondered. She made her way out of the gun turret, and after washing up and getting into some new robes, she searched the ship for Leo, who she was sure would be able to answer her question.

She started toward the cargo hold, then paused, hearing indistinguishable noises coming from there. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she headed in closer, to see a most disturbing sight.

Brianna and Leo, dressed down to their underclothes, were tumbling around on the floor. Then Leo jumped up, hands up protectively, his muscles flexing, as they circled around each other. He tried a quick jab which Brianna deflected, responding with a side kick to his stomach that made him stumble. Taking the advantage, Brianna lunged in, and Leo fell to the ground with Brianna on top of him. They looked into each other's eyes, breathing heavily.

"Isn't it a little early for this?" Demi said, smiling mischieviously, coming into the scene. "I mean, it's nice that you're bonding and all, but I haven't even eaten breakfast yet…"

Immediately, Leo gently pushed Brianna off, and stood up. "Demi!" he exclaimed, running a hand through his white hair, obviously abashed. "We were dueling, she was teaching me about the Echani form…"

"And it is Echani tradition that we battle without any obstructing outer wear," Brianna added, not ashamed in the least.

"We were just training, Dem, honest…"

"Uh-huh," said Demi, unable to stop the grin that was spreading over her face. She knew they were telling the truth, but she couldn't help rubbing it in her brother just a little bit. "So, um, you know, have fun, um, _training_…"

And with that, and a devilish, knowing smile, she left them at it.

"Sisters," she heard Leo grumble.

Demi could only take a few more steps before she collapsed with laughter. It racked her whole body and made her feel more light-hearted than ever before. She leaned against the corridor, and slid down the wall to the floor, tilting her head back and laughing giddily.

"Oh, Force," she said through the giggling fit, her shoulders heaving. "Can't…breathe…"

Then, Atton came down the hall, carrying two bottles of something in his hand, and just watched her. Her eyes were almost at tears from all of the peals of laughter. "Did you have too much to drink, or something?" he questioned. "I thought the heaviest thing you Jedi are allowed to drink is water."

Demi just laughed harder, then put her hand to her mouth to try to stifle the noise. "It….should be!"

"I'm glad you find this so amusing," Atton asked, a smile breaking over his face without it meaning to. Laughter is very contagious.

Demi pointed a thumb back at the cargo hold. "No, it's…my brother…and Brianna," she managed to say. "Oh…my chest hurts from laughing…"

"Leo and Brianna?" Atton repeated, raising his eyebrows. "Oh, they're getting busy back there?"

Demi subsided the chuckles long enough to smack him on the shoulder. "Nerf-herder. I—I don't even know why I'm laughing…It wasn't even that funny…But Leo's face…Oh, I'm never going to let him forget this…"

"Ah, sibling pranks and torture!" Atton sat down next to her. "I've always been an expert at that." And then his face clouded, bringing on a not-so-distant memory of Elle. He shook it off, and uncorked one of the bottles. "Care for a drink?"

Demi pushed it away, taking slow, shuddering breaths. She sighed contentedly. "I should have known they'd hit it off." Then, she paused. "Well, at least their hair color matches!" And the giddy laughter started up again.

"Okay, there," Atton said, after taking a swig. "You need to breathe. Laughter's good for the soul and all that, but not if you get a heart attack while doing it."

Demi did so, giving just a few soft chuckles. "What are you drinking, anyway?" she asked, after all giggles had ceased.

"Tarisian ale. I found some in a hidden compartment. But I think you should stay away from it for a while, at least while you're having an Attack of the Major Giggles."

"Agreed," Demi sighed. She glanced at him, as he took another swig. "Geez, haven't you ever heard of cups? No one's going to want to drink that now, what with your mouth germs all over it."

"Exactly what I was going for," Atton replied easily.

Demi shook her head, and got to her feet. "I was going to ask Leo if he knew what happened to the gizkas in the gun turret, but seeing as he has his hands full…"

"Literally," Atton added.

Demi rolled her eyes.

"In all seriousness, though," Atton said, setting the bottles on a shelf in the main hold. "I saw two gizkas last night in the cockpit, right after your nightmare. And Leo took them away as fast as he could. What do you reckon that's about?"

"I don't know. I had a nightmare?" Demi said, stopping. "Oh, right." _That's why I was in the gun turret…After waking up from that dream, I needed to go someplace and just write…_

"You woke up screaming," Atton said quietly, taking her by the elbow so she had to face him. "Demi…"

"What?" she asked, not looking him in the eyes.

"You know what."

"My nightmare?"

"That's the one."

"It was about Malachor V during the Wars, that's all," Demi said roughly, pushing past him and into the cockpit, checking the navigation charts. "It was pretty boring."

"Yeah?" said Atton, coming up behind her. "Didn't sound like it."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine," said Atton, backing off. "It's just, you'd think with me telling you my whole life story and everything, you'd trust me enough to tell me something too."

Demi sighed, trailing her hand down the charts. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I trust you," Demi said softly, turning around to face him. "It's me I don't trust."

Atton absorbed this as she looked back at the map.

"We'll be in Central Port in a few hours," she reported, turning on her heel and leaving him there. sat on the side of the room, a large, airy one with sun coming down through the glass in the ceiling. Nobody was here yet, but he knew they would be soon.

Sure enough, Ian Pace came into the room, looking a bit wary. "They got you too, huh?" Dustil said, smiling.

"If by 'got me,' you mean sent me a mysterious message for me to come down here, then, yeah." Ian stuck his hands in his pockets and took a seat by Dustil. "Any idea what it's about?"

"Not a clue. They seem to be priding themselves on these secret meetings recently."

"So I've noticed."

They sat in silence for a while.

"Hey, Ian?" Dustil tried.

"Yeah?"

Dustil swallowed. This had been on his mind for a while. "How can you do it?"

Ian looked at him strangely. "Do what?"

"My dad told me…about Malak and Elaine. They both abandoned you. Then Malak was killed, by her, no less, and then she came back, just to leave you again. How can you stand it?"

Ian looked away sharply. "Carth told you, huh? It wasn't easy, if that's what you mean. It's not something that you can just get over, in a matter of seconds." More quietly, he added, "But I try…I try not to blame her. Because I see now. It wasn't easy on the both of them either."

"No, I mean…" Dustil stood up suddenly, and ran a hand through his brown hair. "I mean, it happened to me. Both my parents…gone. And I went all Dark Side, didn't I? Became a Sith, the whole cup of caffa. But you. No, you're all calm. I don't under…How can you even stand it?"

Ian sighed. "I got used to it, I guess. Being left behind. Being alone." He glanced at Dustil. "You're expecting me to be more angry, especially since it runs in my blood. My parents were both passionate and fiery, but me…I'm sort of mellow, I suppose. Maybe that's how things work out. The opposite of what you'd expect."

Then Ian smiled a funny smile, sad and sardonic, considering the irony of it. "My parents were responsible for Morgana's death, weren't they?"

Dustil exhaled. "Yeah. See, that's another thing. All these crimes your parents committed. I'm not blaming Elaine…She was…She's different now. I'm just trying and trying to understand the reason why it's so much easier for me to blame things on other people, and use that anger and frustration to turn bad, and you just…find a way to deal with things. Is it genetics? Random luck? Did I miss out on the free handouts of the book, 'How to Maintain a Peaceful Temperament Even When Everything Else is all Screwed Up?'"

Ian sighed. "I don't…I don't know the answers. And you're making me sound like some angelic, meditative guy. I'm not. I've just been on the outside for a long time. I've never really been part of the action. Just on the sidelines, getting affected by it all. Maybe that's where we're different. You don't let things happen, you try to prevent it. You're brave that way."

"Or rash that way," Dustil muttered.

"Me…I didn't even try to stop her from leaving. I guess…I understood, even though it was the last thing I wanted." He looked at Dustil. "That's where we're different. I'm either open-minded enough or cowardly enough or stupid enough to try to see things from this other perspective, and try to understand. I don't prevent them from playing out, I just watch. Maybe I'm…apathetic. You…you're all about the action. If you don't want something to happen, you dive in and stop it." Ian shrugged. "I don't know how this all worked out this way, why I'm me, and you're you, but it did."

Dustil was quiet for a moment. "You lost your home."

Ian rolled his eyes at him, but in a good-natured way. "What are you doing, like counting up all my misfortunes? Mine wasn't destroyed like yours was. I can go back if I wanted to."

"But you were taken away."

"I agreed to it. And now, I stay here because she told me to. And I want to, and need to. Besides…homes. I don't know if I've ever truly had one, but…" He looked away, then back up at Dustil. "I…I can make new ones."

Dustil swallowed and nodded. "All right." He sat back down beside Ian. "So I'm the angry and frustrated one who should be in therapy, while you're the wise and calm one who knows exactly how everything's going to work out?"

Ian nodded, thinking. "Exactly."

Dustil smiled at this, and then there was a silence.

"Does anybody else know?" Ian asked.

"About Malak and Elaine? No. Not that I know of, anyway. And we won't tell. Not unless you want us to, of course."

"How's Mission?" Ian said. "I heard Griff came…"

Dustil grinned wryly. "She cussed off Griff's head for about an hour, but I think they're going through some real sibling-bonding right now."

"That's good."

"All's well that end's well." Dustil drummed his fingers on the end of the seat, and Ian sighed several times. It may have been quiet in the room they were both in, but inside the minds of both of them, it was loud. Full of thoughts and suppressed feelings and anger and confusion and hurt of the past and…the beginning of, maybe, a really strong friendship.

"Good Force, what is it with you young people today? Have you never heard of the word, 'socializing' before?"

"Jolee!" Dustil said, standing up.

"Don't strain yourself," Jolee Bindo said. "Sit down, boy. We've got some talking to do."

Juhani came in as well, and stood tall and proud next to Jolee. "Dustil Onasi and Ian Pace, it has been noticed by the rest of the Order that you both are Force-sensitive."

"Me?" Ian said, a little surprised. But he should have known. He was the son of Revan and Malak, after all.

"That's right, sonnie," Jolee said. "We already knew a long time ago that Dustil was, ever since we found him on Korriban, but we've only just noticed you, Ian. And we've decided that it's about time both of you got some decent training by some proper Masters."

"A golden gizka to whoever guesses correctly who that's going to be," Dustil grinned.

"Jolee and I have been appointed your teachers, and as of this moment, you are both our Padawans," Juhani said. "Your training will not be easy, but hopefully you will both help each other along every trial we set before you to learn."

They nodded.

"When do we get our lightsabers?" Dustil asked.

"You don't," Jolee said. "At least, not yet. Patience, young one."

"We will be helping you learn to control the Force inside of you, by meditation, moving objects with your mind, etcetera," Juhani said. "You have a great turmoil of thoughts within each of you, and as you are being taught late in your years, we have a great ways to go in so little time. Especially now, as I feel a war looms closer."

"A war," Ian repeated, startled.

"That's right," Jolee said. "But now, I want each of you to sit on the floor, close your eyes, and just _feel_ your surroundings."

They did so, and it was easy to notice the differences between the two young men. Dustil sat with a straighter posture, and as he closed his eyes, all grins gone for now, he seemed stronger, almost stern. The similarities between him and Carth were more distinguishable, with his brown hair, eyes, and sideburns. Thoughts of Telos, Morgana, Selene, his father, they all evaporated as he concentrated on concentrating about nothing.

Ian Pace meditated with a calm look about him, but it was easy to see past that and feel the pain, loss, and neglect he had endured his whole life. He missed Elaine. He missed Pexelia. Sometimes, he even missed Malak. His dark, curly hair was unruly, and he was much more quiet than Dustil, but that was one of the many parts that made him Ian. And as they both meditated, even through all their differences, one might have even mistaken them for brothers.

**::.Nausuma.::**

Elaine awoke with a start to the sound of chains rattling, followed by a pain in both of her wrists. It took her a moment to realize that it was she who had both of her hands cuffed above her, attached to the wall. Her ankles were also bound in steel, stretched in front of her as she sat down on the floor. Quickly, she took in her surroundings.

She was in a small, circular room, with a ceiling more than twenty feet high. It gave her the impression that she was locked inside a tower, but she couldn't be sure. There were no windows, but the room gave off a yellow light, although it hurt to crane her neck upwards to see if candles were the cause of this. The wall behind her was rough and rocky, and there was a door in front of her. It was wooden, and a peephole was visible, although it was too far away.

Her weapons, grenades, every gadget she had, had been stripped away from her. At least she wasn't gagged. Her arms felt weary from being held up, her legs numb. She was painfully hungry, her tongue was parched, and her brain was reacting a bit too slowly.

_I've been drugged,_ Elaine realized.

Just then, the door opened, and a young woman stepped in. The woman was by no doubts lovely, with her long, honey-colored hair, and warm brown eyes. This shocked Elaine. She had been expecting some scary looking Sith Lord type, with a hood and those trademark cryptic, threatening words. Or a Ha-meshun, which she would have preferred. But this caught her off guard.

"Are you comfortable?" this newcomer asked, then quickly laughed. "No, that's a stupid question. I'm sorry. I'm not much of a hostess, I'll admit." She held up a glass of water and some bread. "Basic prisoner food," she explained. "They wanted me to give you this. The bread tastes a bit funny to me, but I'm sure to you it'll be something of a feast. Oh, don't worry," she added, seeing Elaine's speechless look, which had been about something else entirely. "It's not drugged or poisoned or anything. That part's over now."

"And what part," Elaine said, her voice cracking from mal-nourishment, "is this, exactly? Girl-talk session?"

"An interrogation, I'm afraid." The woman smiled sadly. "Here." She held up the glass of water to Elaine's dry lips and let her drink. It was gone in five seconds. She then proceeded to tear the bread into smaller pieces, and then gave them to Elaine as well. "Lucky for you," she said as she did this. "The interrogation works both ways. And you get to go first."

_What a strange place,_ Elaine thought vaguely, as she swallowed some bread. It tasted dry and coarse, but had a faint honey aftertaste. It was heavenly, Elaine decided, ravenous for more.

"I already know what you're going to ask, of course," said the lady, feeding Elaine the last portion of bread that she greedily chewed down. "Where am I? How did I get here? How long have I been here? Who are you? What's your name? What are you planning to do with me?"

She sighed, brushing the crumbs off her hands and going over to a panel in the wall Elaine hadn't seen before. "It gets very tiring here, sometimes," she said, waving her hand over the panel, and strange symbols and shapes in holographic form appeared underneath it. "Nobody here ever tells me anything. I thought I was dead when I came here. See this?" She pushed the panel, and suddenly, the walls of the tower cell were gone. Instead, the room had turned all white, boundaries limitless. The door had disappeared. "This is usually the setting they use on prisoners. It drives them mad, it really does. Force, how I hate this place. You're special somehow, though. So you get the priority of seeing it for how it truly is. I can change it for you. You like Kashyyyk?"

She held her hand over the panel again, brushing air, but her palm triggered more strange writings to come up. And suddenly, they were in a forest. Elaine instinctively jumped in alarm, only succeeding in hurting herself. They were floating, high above the Wookiee village, with their lanterns and huts. The faint sound of music was heard. _Drums_, Elaine thought dimly. An insect chirped far off. The night sky was visible, and a ray of moonlight played on Elaine's violet eyes. Kashyyyk had been one of her favorite planets.

"Or maybe Taris?"

Another gesture over the panel, and they were flying above the city, as people milled along the streets, just like any other day. The sun set in the west, painting hues of orange, pink, and yellow above the rounded buildings that _whooshed_ beneath them.

"Taris is gone, of course, but here it lives on."

Suddenly, they were cruelly snatched out of this place, and were back in the prisoner cell, the exhilaration of traveling and flying gone. They were back in crude, hard reality.

"This place has many secrets," the woman said, staring off into space. "So many infinite possibilities and technologies. For instance, this room? Force powers don't work in here. Not at all. You may have felt it, just this total absence of anything. Something in here just sucks all the energy away." She turned back to Elaine. "Like that Exile. She is healed now, but nothing can make the wounds disappear, of the time she stripped herself of the Force. Nothing can. She's coming after you even now, do you know that?"

Elaine nodded. For some reason, she found it hard to speak.

The lady knelt in front of Elaine, the delicate scent of velanie flowers filling the air, as her curtain of honey-colored hair fell to one side of her face. "I know why you're here. But you shouldn't have come. They will take advantage of you."

"Who is 'they?'" Elaine asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" She stood up again, restlessly. "It hurts, you know," she said, not looking at Elaine. "Seeing you, I mean. It brings back memories. I remember how he would finally come home after many days, the look of war and loneliness in his eyes. I tried so hard to make those ghosts disappear, but when they finally did, he had to leave again. Force, how I missed him." She started pacing up and down the room. "I didn't like him much at first. I thought he was just another one of those stuck-up pilots without half a clue as to what they were talking about half the time. But he wasn't, and that caught me by surprise. He was smart, kind, handsome, and brave. You know."

Elaine felt like she was drowning. This couldn't be…?

"We'd go walk sometimes and just talk. About everything and nothing at the same time. There's this one cave, see. I don't know if you've ever been there. Each time we went, we'd etch our names on its walls. Carth and Morgana forever." Morgana, for that was who she was, trailed her hands down the side of the wall, smiling at the memory. "It may have been childish, I know, but at the time, I didn't care. I was happy. I was in love. I wonder if our names are still there."

"Oh, Force," Elaine said, exhaling. "I—I had no idea. You're—"

"It took you a while, but finally you've caught on," Morgana said. "I've been watching you from here, you know. And I've been watching everything that you've been missing, ever since you went away. My Dustil and your Ian are on their way to becoming great friends, almost brothers. I bet you never expected that. You always made Ian stay in hiding. Now he finally has a chance to spread his wings.

"It's funny how much we have in common, isn't it? Carth, abandoned sons, wars that destroyed us…"

"You're a vision," Elaine said, her voice hoarse.

"Am I?" Morgana said sharply. "Does it even matter? Whatever I am, you know that what I stand for is true."

"You died," Elaine said, her eyes wide. What trick was this?

"No. You killed me. You haven't forgotten, have you? I know I haven't. I think about that day so often, replaying it in my head, like a holofilm. I really wish it would go away." Her brown eyes stared deep into Elaine's, yet they sort of seemed to stare through her. "Fire. Dustil, reaching for me. The sky was burning. And I was too."

"I'm…I'm so sorry," Elaine gasped. "Please forgive me. I…I didn't give Malak that order. Bombing Telos IV was unnecessary, but he wouldn't listen to me. It's no excuse. I made Malak, after all. But I'm sorry, nevertheless."

"Are you?" Morgana said sharply. "Do you ever wonder where I would be, if I were still alive, out in the galaxy, instead of hidden away here? I would be with Carth. I would be with Dustil. He would never have gone to Korriban. And you would never have gone trekking all over the galaxy with my husband."

"Morgana," Elaine said, the first time she had ever said that name aloud. This reminded her of the time Malak had wondered, back at the Star Forge, what would have changed if their positions had been reversed. And now this. But this was the way things were. Why did nobody want to accept that? "I don't have anything against you. And Carth is never going to forget you. You know that. So why are you doing this?"

"I have a right to, don't I? I'm the one who has to see you with him. Every hour of my sad existence, I see you together. Like visions in my head, taunting, surrounding, what I can never have." Elaine saw tears running down her face. "I have to see you laugh, talk, fight, touch, kiss, cry, and _live_. I see him calling you gorgeous, beautiful. I see you fingering that old jacket I got him, so many years ago. And it hurts. More than you could ever know." Morgana swallowed. "You are both an invincible pair, do you know that? An Admiral and a Jedi Master. Ready to take on the galaxy together. You fill his side better than I ever could. But then, we'll never know, will we?

"Would you like to see him?" Morgana continued, gesturing at the mysterious panel. Before Elaine could say anything, there was Carth. The room went dark, and there was nothing but him, back in Coruscant. He was hitting a punching bag as hard as he could, pain in his eyes, angry, frustrated, and lonely. With each hit, Elaine felt like it was a blow directly to her. She wanted to call out to him, but knew he wouldn't be able to hear her.

When she thought she couldn't stand it anymore, Carth stopped, and laid his head against the bag, breathing hard, closing his eyes.

"Force, Revan," Morgana whispered from the shadows. "You're killing him slowly. How long do you think it'll be before he gives up on you altogether? –And replaces you, just like he replaced me?"

"No," Elaine breathed, her eyes wide, turning back to Carth.

He had taken a few steps back from the punching bag, and then suddenly lunged in, kicking it squarely and with such force, that it disconnected from the chain altogether. It flew to the other side of the room, where it lay, motionless. Elaine flinched, and watched as he took off his fingerless gloves he had been wearing, and flung them to the floor. Then he headed over to the door, shrugged back on his orange jacket, and went back up a flight of stairs, where he disappeared from sight.

"Carth," Elaine said, tears falling down her cheeks. She looked up at Morgana, who had her own tears on her cheeks. "Stop it," Elaine said, her voice coming out weakly and softly. "Just stop."

"No," Morgana said. "You took everything away from me. My love, my son, my planet, my _life_. And now, you come here, willingly, searching us out, and I'm supposed to be content with giving you water and feeding you bread?" She laughed hollowly. "No, Revan. I'm going to make you remember. I'm going to make you feel what I feel. And when you do, the Elaine that Carth sees will unravel before him, showing the true darkness underneath. Because it's never gone, Revan. It's just been in hiding, waiting for the opportune moment. And then we will all see who you really are, and let me be the first among them."

Morgana waved her hand over the panel again, and their surroundings changed, but this time rapidly, in quick succession. Elaine shut her eyes hard, trying to drown out the voices. Not all of these memories were hers. But that made it worse. And Elaine was forced to relive them again and again.

* * *

A/N: In the datapad entry, Demi wrote,'I am more than certain that somewhere, out there, there is a more worthy, beautiful, passionate, stronger person, who is more prepared for what the worlds will through at her than I am,' –and that was sort of my tribute to all the other Fem. Exiles who drive Atton crazy. Kudos. 


	19. 18: Footprints

**Chapter 18 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Footprints

"**O**kay," Leo said, as the Ebon Hawk landed on the landing pad in Central Port, where Atton and Brianna had been just a few days before. "Here we are." He turned to face Demi and Atton. "I need to ask the two of you not to wear your Jedi robes, and if you need to carry your lightsabers, to hide them."

Atton raised his eyebrows. "We're going undercover now?"

Leo sighed. "Something like that. They've already sent a clone after us. There are many eyes in Central Port that will be scrutinizing us the moment we step off this ship. If word gets out about two Jedi stopping here, then heading off again, it won't be long till Vincentii's on our trail again."

"Demi and I could just stay on the ship," Atton offered.

"You can't," Brianna. "They seem to have this custom where passengers are supposed to get off and buy something from their market."

"It's seems like blackmail to me," Leo agreed. "But there are a lot of traders here. It's quite the hotspot. We should take advantage of that."

"It's no problem," said Demi, exchanging a glance with Atton.

"Great," Leo said. "Go get changed. We'll wait for both of you here down at the ramp."

Demi and Atton headed down the corridor.

"I'm guessing you're going to go wear your trademark ribbed jacket now," said Demi.

"Hey, it's the best thing for blending into the crowd," said Atton. "What about you? I mean, I've pretty much only seen you in your Jedi Robes. Except for Pera—"

Demi rolled her eyes. "I'm sure I'll find something. I'm not so desperate that I'd resort to my skivvies right now."

Atton grinned wryly and shrugged with a, "Suit yourself," and they went their separate ways when they reached the main hold. Demi disappeared into her dormitory. The truth was, though, that she really didn't have much else to wear. She had about three more pairs of Jedi robes and that was it. Demi dug roughly into her pack. Surely she had at least _one_ other thing that was at least partly normal.

Then, at the very bottom of her bag, she felt it. The light green dress that she had worn at the party in Coruscant. That day seemed so long ago. Demi took it out and laid it down on her bed. It was slightly crumpled, however it still had its flowing short sleeves, and the length was still long. It had only been for formal occassions, but it was all she had so it had to do.

Demi held it back up, and was about to hold it to the light, when her boot caught on the edges of it, and Demi, stuck in the moment, pulled the dress sharply to the left in a feeble attempt to get it free. A loud, ugly tear filled the air, and Demi flinched. She looked down, fearing the worst, to see that the dress had been torn down diagonally from the space just below her left hip, then flowed down longer as it continued on the right. But there was no denying the large gap that was now there. The torn fabric lay on the floor, discarded.

Demi sighed loudly. "What do I have to do to be normal for a change?" she demanded out loud. She shook her head, and took off her outer robe. Someone knocked on the door.

"Just a sec!" Demi called, then rushed over and opened it. It was Brianna.

"Are you all right?" she inquired. "I heard you talking to yourself and you sounded upset."

"Sorry," Demi grimaced. "I just had sort of a fashion disaster." She gestured at the torn dress on the bed.

Brianna raised her eybrows. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'd offer you my cloak, but I think you'd look even more conspicious in it."

Demi smiled. "I'll survive. Thank you for the offer, though."

Brianna nodded and disappeared.

A few minutes later, Demi surveyed herself in the mirror. The dress fit tightly around her slim waist. She tugged fruitlessly on the dress, trying to make it longer so it would cover her more, but it wasn't working. A lot of leg was revealed, and Demi, who had always been a pretty modest person, couldn't help blushing.

Demi sighed, and held up her brown Jedi robe over herself. "Respected Jedi Master and Watchman Demi Thress…" She dropped the robe to the floor. "Slutty Demi Thress."

"Oh, Force!" she exclaimed, striding over to the door and opening it resolutely. "Who cares, anyway?"

Apparently, Atton did. He was about to head down the ramp. He took one look at her and whistled long and low. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the last time I saw this dress there seemed to be a whole lot more length to it…"

Demi held up her finger warningly. "You even open your mouth again, Rand, and I'll keep that promise I made earlier and kill you dead. Do you hear me?"

And with that, she swept down the ramp and into Central Port.

Atton swallowed down whatever he was going to say instantly and followed her.

"My mouth is closed." _But my eyes are not_, he thought with inward satisfaction.

Central Port was a busy, bustling place, full of travelers and merchants. Many shuttles were stationed around, ready for any passengers. It was an island planet, with high eroding cliffs. Gulls screeched overhead, and as it was late afternoon, and sun began to melt in the sky in beautiful colors. Demi could hear the ocean's waves crashing somewhere far off.

"All right," Leo said at the bottom of the ramp. "Brianna and I are going to go get some fuel for the ship that'll last us. The droids are going to watch over the Ebon Hawk. Demi and Atton will go buy us some food rations." He put some credits in his sister's hands. "That should do the trick. Holy Force! Demi...what happened to your dress?!"

Demi shifted awkwardly and self-consciously, feeling Atton (and everybody else for that matter) staring at her. "Don't. Even. Ask," she muttered darkly.

Leo gave her a look, then said, "Anyway, you all know what to do. We'll meet back here in about a half hour."

Demi sped off, not even waiting for Atton, and dove into the market, ignoring people staring at her, and the number of whistles that she got as she went by. She had never felt so vulnerable before. Humiliated, she couldn't wait to get out of here.

"One lovely necklace for a beautiful young lady!" one merchant cried, from his colorful stall.

"An exotic fynock who can tell your future! _Only_ 2,500 credits for each telling!"

"Twenty credits for a month's supply of boxed meat and vegetables! Perfect bargain price for travelers on long journeys…"

Demi headed over to that stall. "I'll take as many as two hundred credits can pay for, please."

The merchant packed her up two bags full of five food ration boxes. "Thank you for your generosity, ma'am. Have a good day."

"Believe me, a good day is exactly the opposite of what you'll have unless you give us the right amount," Atton snarled at the merchant over the counter, appearing out of nowhere.

The merchant glanced nervously from Demi to Atton, then succumbed and hastily handed over five more boxes.

"Have a nice day," he mumbled, before closing up his shop and hurrying away, Atton glaring in disgust after him.

"I hate salespeople," he remarked in distaste. "Always cheating people out of their money." He placed the boxes in Demi's bag. "You should have counted how many he owed you before you payed up," he said gently.

"Oh, so not only am I a total klutz who only has one dress and ends up, as luck would have it, ruining it, but I'm a brainless schutta who can't count?" Demi fired back, marching off in no specific direction.

"What are you getting so upset at me about?" Atton said, following her. "If I have to remind you, I _remembered_ to wear something inconspicuous, but you on the other hand—"

"Stop it!" Demi hissed. "Do you think I had any choice in the matter?" She gestured at the dress. "Do you think I actually enjoy parading around like this? This was the only non-Jedi thing I had, and of course, I ended up screwing it up _completely_, but you…_Urgh!_" Furious, she kept walking.

"Okay, for some odd reason, I still don't see how any of this is my fault," Atton continued.

"Ha!" Demi laughed dispassionately. "Big surprise there! You're so blind, Atton! I try to pretend I'm a normal person with a normal life, not someone who's constantly weighed down by some big destiny on her shoulders. _One time, Atton! One time!_ And then things fall out, and all you can do is smirk, and stare, and overall, act like a…like a…Big hairless wookiee!"

"Would you quit getting so worked up? You're acting like a little spoiled kid, Demi."

"That is unfair, and you know it. And I despise that! I despise _you!_" Demi took off again, but Atton grabbed her by the wrist and whirled her around, so she had to face him, fuming.

"Let go of me, Atton!" she said dangerously, trying to pull away.

"No. Not until you hear me out." Atton's eyes locked with hers. "First of all, you're beautiful, Demi, whether you're in this half-torn dress or your stupid old Jedi robes. Second of all, I'm a guy, Demi. You give me an opportunity and you automatically think I'll make it easy on you?"

"That," Demi said with venom, letting the 'beautiful' remark slide, "would help, actually, now that you bring that up."

Atton let her go. "Why can't you just stop making such a big deal out of this and just be comfortable with who you are?"

Demi laughed hollowly. "Oh, no. No. You're commenting on this?" She tugged on her dress again. "You think that the real me is some kind of _slut?_"

Atton looked like he had been slapped. Which, actually, he would be, in just a few seconds. "What—?"

"That was low, Atton," Demi said forcefully. "That was real low of you."

Atton grabbed her hand again. "I never—"

"Don't _touch_ me!" yelled Demi. Using her free hand, she dropped the bag and slapped Atton hard across the face, then stormed away.

**::. Later, Central Port.::**

The sea was quiet, and the wind was calm. A small, blonde Jedi sat down at the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea, the horizon before her. She wasn't exactly meditating, just closing her eyes as the breeze passed lightly over her eyelashes. Just thinking.

_I'm a fool,_ Demi thought. _There's no other word for it. I was out of line. Out of control. Some Jedi I am. Atton was right. I did act like a little kid. No, that's not fair to little kids. I was worse. I was ashamed and embarrassed…_

She opened her eyes. _And scared. Of what?_

"Hey," said a voice behind her. "Is it safe now, or are you going to slap me again? 'Cause I gotta say, that last part I wasn't so fond of."

Demi didn't reply, just stared back out at the ocean.

Atton watched her for a moment in her tranquil state, then took a seat beside her. "I'll take my chances."

"You should get away from me, Atton," Demi said, with no emotion in her voice. "You get involved with me, and you're asking for a lifetime of confusion and—and trouble, and…pain. You don't want that, Atton. I don't want that for you. Hmm." A smile lighted her face for just on moment. "I wouldn't want that for me either. I don't have a choice though. I'm stuck with me twenty-four-seven."

"I didn't know I had a choice either," Atton said seriously. "I'm already involved with you, Demi, whether you like it or not. It just happened. And all that pain you're talking about? You're bringing all that upon yourself."

"You're not exactly helping with the confusion, you know."

Atton smiled wryly. "Well. I'm a confusing person."

"Your clone said that exact thing too."

He frowned. "You still think I'm that clone?"

Demi closed her eyes again. "No. I don't. I never did."

"Good answer. Because I don't think the clone would do this, do you?"

Atton snaked his hand behind Demi's neck, and pulled her close, kissing her lightly on the lips, and letting it linger. Ever since he had seen Demi's delicate, wonderful lips quirk in amusement, he had wanted to do this. But even more, he wanted Demi to need this as much as he did.

Demi smiled, eyes still closed. "He might." _What am I saying?_ she wondered.

"How about this?"

This time, Atton kissed her again with more passion, his mouth soft and experienced, and slowly, Demi responded back. It was an indulgence she had never had before, or at least not anything that could compare to this. Her spirits were soaring, and although she wouldn't admit it to herself, her true feelings for Atton came unearthed. This attraction that had been building up since the first time they had met had now finally overflowed, but it was more than lust. But it couldn't be love…could it?

In the back of her mind came a slow, tugging warning, and Kreia's memorable voice filled her head.

_Atton is, as always, the fool. There is no love left in a heart such as that one. He has nothing to offer to one such as you - and even a fool such as Atton is not so ignorant of that fact._

She ignored it, and all of her questions, fears, and doubts, and threw her arms around his neck as his hands moved down to her waist, awakening every part of her body. She placed one hand on the side of his face, angling it to get her better fill of the kiss, which filled her with a longing she couldn't quite tame.

There were two conflicts in her head right now. One knew that she should pull away, before it was too late, before the both of them got dragged into something neither of them was ready for. However, the other conscience was winning, one who had been deprived of this need and longing for so long.

For a few moments, Demi knew what heavenly bliss meant.

And then, suddenly, all too soon, the other conscience won over. She pulled back, and placed a light finger on Atton's lips, stopping him. "We can't," she said, her eyes wide, slowly lowering her finger. Her breath was coming out raggedly, as though she wasn't quite sure this was happening.

"We already did," Atton murmured, leaning forward to reach her lips again, but Demi turned away, so they brushed her ear instead, his breath warm against her skin.

"Demi?" Atton said uncertainly, pulling back a little, trying to find her eyes. Before, even if they told him to stop, he wouldn't, not sure whether they meant it or not, and not caring anyway, but with Demi, it was different.

_I'm going to cry,_ Demi realized suddenly. _I can't believe it. I'm about to cry. What's wrong with me?_

She tilted her head back, willing the tears to go away. She didn't need this whole process of runny noses, boxes of tissues, and red eyes right now. However, one tear escaped, and Atton was there to smudge it away with his thumb. Demi held his hand there, closed her eyes, and savored his touch, before entwining her hands with his, pushing them away, and letting them drop.

"Not now," she said, her voice wavering, as she got unsteadily to her feet, Atton watching her. She felt light headed, and her heart was pounding wildly in exhilaration. "We can't—I can't afford this."

"Afford?" Atton said in disbelief, a harsh laugh coming out of his mouth. "I'm not asking you to buy anything, Demi."

"You might as well be. We—we have Revan, the Sith, and Vincentii to worry about. We can't—"

"Well, we did," said Atton roughly, standing up as well. "Why are you trying to make this a burden? It doesn't have to be one."

"You don't understand," said Demi desperately, taking a step backwards, but before she had a chance to explain herself, suddenly there was an earsplitting _crack!_ There was a loud crumbling of eroding rocks fell from the cliff and down to the sand and beach below. They both peered down there, realizing they weren't standing on the most steady cliff at the moment.

"This place isn't safe," Atton began. "We have to get out of—"

But then, there was a violent shudder, the sound of earth moving, and before they could do anything, they were tumbling down along with the jutting edge of the cliff they had been on. They rolled and skidded down in turn, rough dirt grating Demi's bare legs on the way down. They hit the sand with a jolt, and Demi's heart thudded in her chest.

She rolled over, coughing, brushing the sand off of her.

"Lovely," she muttered darkly, getting to her knees.

"So, what now?" Atton said, still on the sand.

"Well," said Demi. "I'm thinking we need to figure out a way to get back to the _Hawk _from here."

"That wasn't what I meant," said Atton, still looking out into the neverending sea. "And you know it." He was leaning on his hands behind his back, his long legs stretched out before him. The ocean water lapped at his feet but he didn't really care. Demi was almost tempted to join him and just lie there forever, but resisted the temptation. Being near him wouldn't make things easier at all. "How do we go about this?" he continued. "Just ignore it? Forget it ever happened?"

Demi swallowed. "I—I'm going to go see if maybe there's a cliff here that we can climb."

At this, Atton got to his feet faster than Demi thought possible. "You think what we did was a mistake, is that it?" he said, visibly hurt and angry. He stepped up to her, and maybe it was the cold breeze from the sea that made her shiver and try to rub some warmth back into her arms. She felt vulnerable all of a sudden, just standing there, in a stupid dress with a stupid length, just waiting for Atton to reach her.

"Kreia's dead, Demi," Atton said. "And there is no more Jedi Council telling you what to do."

"There is," Demi said. "Back on Coruscant. Mira, Bao-Dur, that Bastila…"

"Look, they don't give a damn about what goes on as long as we rescue their precious Revan."

"Her name is Elaine."

"Why do you keep on trying to change the subject?" Atton demanded. "You told me, just a few hours ago, actually, that you trusted me, that it was you that you didn't trust."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Demi said, clenching her teeth as a cold updraft of wind washed over her.

"You tell me." Then his voice got softer, almost gentle. "Force, Demi. What are you trying to hide?"

Demi turned away roughly, her steps being slowed down by the deep, sinking sand. "I don't have anything to hide, Atton. That's you, remember?"

Atton raised his eyebrows. "Touchy on this subject, aren't we?"

"Look," said Demi, whirling around. "Are you going to help me find a way out of here, or not?"

Atton didn't answer that, and followed her as she looked up hopefully at the cliffs, trying to find some stairs or _something_ that would take her out of here.

"Funny, isn't it?" Atton said. "You help everybody you meet find their own redemption, heck, you turn three fourths of them into Jedi, but when it comes to you, that's a whole other story."

"There is no story," Demi snapped. "How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Fine," Atton said easily. "Just tell me this. What did that kiss mean, and where, exactly, do we stand?"

"_I don't know!_" Demi exclaimed. "Force, Atton, do _you_ know all the answers? If you do, please share them, because I sure don't. And I'm not in the best mood right now, what with us being trapped down here with the high tide coming in, you interrogating me, and _oh yes! _We left the food rations, the whole reason we're here in the first place, _up there!_ So if it's all right with you, maybe we can continue this discussion when we're not being made as lunch for kath hounds or whatever other carnivoric creatures live here. Because with my luck, there's bound to be some!"

She headed off again, but Atton kept the pace, taking long strides, noting the fact how much she had sounded like he had been before, avoiding questions, dodging answers.

"It could be love, you know," Atton said seriously.

Demi stopped. "What?" she breathed, disbelieving.

It would be so easy if she would just break down and start crying again, and Atton would hold her close and say everything would be all right, just like he had done back in Coruscant. Except everything wasn't all right, and she wasn't backing down at all.

"You heard me," Atton persevered. "Love."

"And you," Demi said, her voice so controlled, it was almost trembling, "would know all about that, wouldn't you? Mr. I-killed-her-because-I-loved her."

Atton's heart froze at these words, and then his blood boiled. They had argued before, lots of times, but she had never used his past as a weapon against him. Never. Now she had crossed the line. "Don't even go there," he said dangerously.

Demi wanted desperately to take her words back, the last ones she had been able to conjure up in her defense, at a single world that otherwise would have left her speechless. But it was too late for regrets. And a dark part of her didn't want to take it back. "We're right where we started, aren't we?" she said.

Atton raked his hands through his hair. "Dammit, Demi—"

Demi never found out what Atton's hand was going to do, because hers met in the middle. A soft, blue light emanated from both of their hands. It was powerful, painful, and gentle all at once. Like a vow, like a promise.

"What's—what's going on?" Atton stammered.

The light disappeared, and Demi looked up at Atton, grabbing her hand back.

_We have a Force bond made between us,_ Demi communicated to him, disbelieving. _I don't know how, or why, it just_ happened. _From now on, we don't need to speak out loud to communicate with one another. And all the emotions we feel, happiness or pain, the other will feel._

Atton's eyes conveyed shock. _Well, that's real convenient, isn't it?_

For they both knew what the other was thinking.

_You're the last one I want a Force bond with right now._

But it had happened. And it was not going to undo.

For better, or for worse.

The tidal waves washed away their footprints on the shore and the patterns their bodies had made on the sand, so as they headed in their opposite directions, it was like they had never been there at all.

* * *

A/N: I have no idea where the whole dress idea came from so please don't ask… :) 

7.7.07 Gah! I take it all back! lol I seriously NEED to edit this chapter, and soon. If it was bothering her so much, why didn't she just buy some regular clothes then? ;) Of course it's my fault, not Demi's, and as soon as I can, I'd like to come back and edit this a bit. I suppose that's the problem with writing something so long it takes forever to write; you grow up (at least a bit. :P) and then you want to go back and change everything. Anyway, Chapter 29 is almost done being edited.  
Thanks for reading.  
-tWiNkLeT


	20. 19: Life Bites Hard

**Chapter 19 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Life Bites…Hard

"Leo?" Demi said tentatively, coming inside the _Ebon Hawk_. It had been horrible, climbing the cliff so she could get back to the ship. Her dress had kept snagging, her feet had kept slipping, and she was now dusty with dirt, but she ignored this for now. "Where are you?" He, HK, and T3 were nowhere to be seen.

And then, Leo came out of the med bay, looking angrier and paler than his sister had ever seen him. "Where have you been?" he demanded. "We've been waiting and waiting for hours."

"What's happened?" Demi said, instantly alert.

"We got attacked, that's what," Leo said. "And Brianna…" He sighed. "Brianna got hurt."

"No," Demi gasped, hurrying into the med bay, dreading what she would see. _I should have been here to stop this when this happened…_

Brianna lay stretched out on the bed, eyes closed, her breathing coming out raggedly. "Sister," she said suddenly, a cold hand gently closing on Demi's. Her eyes were like blue crystals. Her lips were white, her face pale. "Tell Father I'm sorry…Tell him I failed…"

"What?" Demi said, her eyes widening. "No. No. You didn't fail. We're going to…we're going to get you better again." She turned to Leo. "What happened?"

"Sith ambush," Leo said, fist clenching. "I was over getting fuel for the ship, and Brianna headed to the ship ahead of me. I was going after her, when I heard shots coming from the _Hawk_. I started running, and then I saw two figures in black come down the ramp. HK-47 and T3 managed to hurt one of them, but they got away into another shuttle and sped off." He rested his forehead against the wall, jamming his fist into it again and again. Demi hurried over and held his hand tightly. "I didn't even get one good swing or shot at them. Not a damn one."

"What did they do to Brianna?" she asked. "She isn't bleeding."

"No, she isn't," affirmed Leo, heading over to Brianna's side. "T3 said that as Brianna tried to fight back, the Sith did some kind of enchantment over her, and she fell down here to the floor. That's how I found her."

"You understand T3?" Demi said, surprised.

"Yes. In my line of business, swoop racing, I mean, I had a lot of interaction with them. Droids like T3 were the ones repairing my bike. But that's not important right now." He looked up at Demi. "Where's Atton? Where's the food rations I told you to get?"

Demi's mouth went dry. _Oh, no,_ she thought. "We were…I was…And then I…"

"I have it," said Atton, coming in through the doorway, carrying the bag in his hand, not looking at Demi. "Luckily no one had swiped it while we were gone. What's—what's going on?" he said, coming to a halt as he saw Brianna lying there, mumbling in her sleep.

Leo filled him in, and Demi spoke up. "What can I do to help her?" she said, desperate to help.

Her brother sighed sighed. "I don't…know. I haven't seen an illness like this before. I tried healing her with medpacs, but none of them seemed to work. Even your Force healing powers might not do the trick. I'm afraid this is out of our hands." He voice quavered. "If we wait too long, I'm afraid we might lose her."

"We won't," said Demi forcefully. "I won't let that happen."

"Brianna, although she is in some sort of hallucinating state, did say two intelligible words before you got here. 'Yashel.' And 'Nar Shaddaa.'"

"And you think that has something to do with the cure?" Demi asked.

"It might." Leo shook his head hopelessly. "I don't know. I just don't know. I asked the droids, but they didn't have a clue either. I don't even know why they targetted Brianna. Why did they do this to her? They're after me. This should have been me. And why didn't they kill her? Not that I'm saying I wanted them to, quite the opposite…it just…it doesn't make sense."

"They wanted to slow us down," Demi said. "Maybe they knew Brianna was going to be helping us and…" Demi swallowed. "I'm not sure either. Aside from the whole taking-over-the-galaxy thing, I don't understand much about their motives."

"Nar Shaddaa?" Atton said immediately. "I know Nar Shaddaa like the palm of my hand and I haven't heard of any place like that…"

"Maybe it's not a place, maybe it's a person," said Demi. "Let's plot the charts for Nar Shaddaa, then. It's the only clue we have to go on. And without Brianna like this, there's no way we'd be able to find Atris, anyway."

"Just say the word," Atton said, and disappeared.

Demi sighed, just realizing that she had been holding her breath the whole time he had been in the room.

"Is it just me or was there some tension between the two of you?" said Leo, looking at Demi curiously.

"It's nothing," said Demi, looking down and turning red. "We just argued, that's all."

"All right."

She couldn't tell if Leo believed her or not. "Is it very bad?" she said quietly. "About Brianna, I mean?"

Leo sighed. "Like I said, I don't know. But I'm not going to stick around, waiting, to find out." Then, he bowed his head. "Can I speak with Brianna for a moment? Alone?"

"Of course," Demi said, heading out of the med bay. She watched her brother kneel down beside Brianna, holding her hand, whispering words to her. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but was sure she had an idea. Brianna seemed so still, so white, like an angel, and Demi realized just how much she didn't know about Brianna. Or even Leo, really.

Demi turned away, and was starting to go back to the dormitory to change, when she ran into T3 and HK. She hardly ever saw them together, so this was a little different.

"Apologetic Statement: I am ashamed, Master, I really am," HK-47 said, sounding very sorry. "Apparently, my assasin droid skills were not up to this task of demolishing those vermin Sith. Eager Statement: Believe me, Master, this was the first and last time. I suggest we head after them and turn their unworthy, lowly meatbag selves into space dust."

"Well, right now we're mostly concerned about healing Brianna. We're going to Nar Shaddaa. Perhaps we will find the Sith there, and I'll make sure you get a good shot in. And don't be too hard on yourselves." She turned to T3.

"Do you know which group of Sith they belonged to?" Demi asked. "Vincentii, or Nausuma?"

T3 beeped and whirred, and a recording started playing, of the Sith as they infiltrated the _Hawk._ Their holographic forms and pixels were very small, so Demi had to kneel. She peered at their forms intently.

"There," she said suddenly. "Pause."

T3 did so, and Demi caught a design on one of the Sith's uniforms. It was a V followed by two eyes, which looked like waves. "Their insignia, or logo," Demi said. "These Sith were from Vincentii." _Now, should I be relieved or not?_ Demi thought. She had only encountered Sith from Nausuma, but she wasn't entirely sure what to expect from Vincentii. But so far, sending clones modeled after her comrades wasn't exactly falling into the best category.

"Interested Query: In spite of this new development, does this still ensure me a chance to give them a good shot in both kneecaps?"

"Don't worry," Demi assured him. "Nothing's changed." She started walking away, then stopped. "HK," she said, "You told me that you had information about Revan, which is why you're coming along at all. What is this information? Do you know where Atris is?"

"Statement: Information about Atris is not anywhere in my memory core, except for a term which seems to refer to her as a, 'Telos Ice Princess.'"

_Very funny, Bao-Dur_, Demi thought in amusement.

"Clarification: The information I have is about the planet Nausuma, however, my programming prevents me from telling you about it until it is needed, and that is not now."

"Of course it wouldn't be," Demi sighed. "Thanks, HK and T3. I'll see you later."

She trudged wearily to her dormitory, found her Jedi robes, then headed to the fresher. There she let the water run over her body, ignoring its total lack of heat, her thoughts in turmoil. Demi changed into her Jedi robes, water still trickling down from her hair.

When she got out, she realized that the Ebon Hawk starting to move only now. Perhaps the engine had needed time to start up. She started to head off again when she realized that she wasn't exactly sure where she should go. Now, especially after what had happened earlier, it was like certain parts of the ship weren't safe anymore, especially the cockpit.

Demi took a deep breath. No. She needed to handle this. They needed to talk.

Atton sat in the pilot's seat, hands on the joystick, staring determindedly out of the window, as he piloted the ship out of Central Port. The cliffs, the market, they all got steadily smaller, the waves seem to move slower, until they sped off into the sun, out into space, and did not look back.

"Atton," she said quietly.

"Something up?" he said, his voice hardening at her arrival.

Demi felt like turning around and running away, but held her ground. Trying not to remember the feel of his lips against hers, and his rich, forbidden taste which had left her trembling and weak at the knees. Trying not to remember how he had brushed away her tear on her cheek. Trying not to remember his fingers at the nape of her neck, pressing down softly at her pulse point, as though, for a few moments, he could actually feel her heart beating. Trying to forget.

"We need to—"

"Talk?" Atton finished.

Demi nodded, then realized he probably couldn't see that, so she stepped up and sat in the co-pilot's seat. "Yes. I—I just…I want to make everything better. I want all of this awkward silence to be gone. I want us to be friends again."

"Friends," Atton repeated. "You want us to be friends, do you?"

"Yes," Demi insisted.

"Well let me tell you something. We were never friends. We may have been something more, but friends? Never."

Demi stared at him, shocked. "How can you…How can you even say that?" she demanded. "After everything we've been through together, and everything we've said. Look me in the eye and tell me that we were never friends."

Atton's his grip just tightened on the steering wheel, his eyes stubborn, hurt, and cold, but he didn't look at her. "I don't think any of us were friends, actually," he continued. "In reality, Kreia, Mical, Mandalore? We're really not that big, friendly crew you'd like us to be. That's all in your head, Dem. None of us got along. Bao-Dur never got along with Mandalore, none of the droids got along, I never got along with Mical, Kreia, or hell, _anybody_, and nobody, except for you perhaps, wanted to get to know any of us at all. I think we only stuck together because the situations at the time demanded it. We were all each other had. And I'm sure, that if there was an opportunity, we would all have left at the first chance we got."

Demi felt like she was falling, falling, falling, and there was nobody there to catch her. "You're wrong, Atton," she said.

"Really?" Atton said. "You know, Demi, I've never met anybody who lies to themselves as much as you do. If something is shoved right in front of you, you ignore it. You refuse to see things for the way they are. Everyone can be redeemed, everyone has a bit of light in them that can save them, in your eyes."

"It's called optimism," Demi said, quietly and venemously.

"No, Demi," Atton said. "It's called _false hope_. Do you really think Brianna's going to make it? I felt her life, with the Force, and she's holding on by a string. It's much worse than you and Leo make it out to be, and still, you want to go all the way to Nar Shaddaa, and stop it before it gets worse. And why? It can't be because you care about her. You've barely talked to her at all ever since she joined us. Maybe that's because you're starting to realize that getting to know people really isn't worth it anymore. So all that Brianna really means to you, is finding Elaine. Who you barely know, I might add! You didn't know her when she was Darth Revan. I did. And I think it's bloody worthless, hopping planet to planet, searching for her, just so the loverboy back home can be happy with the thought knowing she's alive, but what good is that going to do? I know you're strong Demi, and you can do things, but if you really think that you can topple some Sith empire, and bring down Vincentii without facing hard, cold _reality_, then I really don't think you're going to make it."

Demi stared at him with furious eyes, and when she spoke, her tone was ice, ice cold. "How dare you. How dare you dismiss everything that I've been working towards just like that. How dare you pretend to know exactly why I do the things I do the way I do them. Do you want to know why I always have to have some hope? Why I truly, believe that people can change? _Because I have to._ There is no one else to do that, and _somebody_ has to believe that things can be made right or else they won't. How do you expect to get across the galaxy, believing nobody is your friend, believing that everybody else doesn't care about anybody else, just wanting to _use_ them for their own material gain? Is that what you're doing? Is that why you're here in the first place?"

Demi stood up, the blood pumping fast in her veins, her temper awoken, Code forgotten. _I have to make him understand_, she thought with a sudden, violent decision.

"I'm not naïve, Atton. I know the galaxy is not always a fun, bright world full of happy, loving people. I know that. I know that from my own experience, exploring the Outer Rim the way I did, after I was exiled. And after seeing the things I've seen, doing the things I've had to do, I can honestly say there are times that I have wanted to _kill myself_ over them. I thought, what is the use of living in a world where people forget the wars that you fought for them? Because, they forgot, Atton. Out there, they forgot real fast. They took their freedom and lives for granted, after all that we did to prevent them from being taken, during the Mandalorian Wars. But do you know why I keep going on, despite all this?"

Atton was silent, but she knew he was listening. He was listening real well. Suddenly, he could picture her as the General, the one leading crusades against the Mandalorians, much better than he had before. She had changed right before his eyes.

"Because of _hope._ And the friends that I know that I have, whether they want to admit it or not. They are the reason that I keep living, the reason that I take one more step each day, no matter how small a distance it takes me, no matter where I'm going to in the end. Because a Jedi's life is sacrifice, Atton. And I've had to accept that. I've had to accept that throwing my life away is the most stupid, selfish thing I could possibly do. That actually _living_ is the hard part, the actual sacrifice. But you. You sit here, with walls all around yourself, refusing to see this. And I blame myself for this, you know. I blame myself because you have no idea what it means to be a Jedi; you have no idea that taking up a lightsaber means a hell of a lot more than swinging it around and moving objects with your mind. These are not some _tricks_ you pick up, not some new skills you show off in some hot-shot cantina; not at all. It means that every action you do affects the galaxy around you, and what you do determines everything, it changes _everything._

"And you go around, talking about Jedi like you aren't one of them yourself, and that makes me wonder something. Maybe you really aren't a Jedi. I blame myself for this, Atton. I really do. Because until I can make you truly see the galaxy, with your eyes, your heart, your mind, then I have failed. If the Force, everything I want you to learn, everything, means nothing to you, then Kreia's prediction about your future will be true. And that is another ending that I do not accept. Because it is not any ending at all."

Demi wavered, and left to exit, but paused at the door. "I don't know what you want from me, Atton. I really don't. But of this moment, I don't really care. If this is truly how you see me, a naïve, do-gooder Jedi working towards a worthless effort, then we'd better just leave it at that and say good-bye. And you're wrong, by the way. I do care about Brianna. I care about her more than I care about myself, even without knowing her the way that you seem to. I care about her, Leo, even you, so much that when we reach Nausuma, I'm going in by myself and none of you are coming with me. That is my fate, Atton. I finally see that now. My whole life has been leading up to that point. And there are dreams that come to me. They tell me that there is one thing that I have to do, to end all of this, and doing that will take my life. That's the kind of selflessness I have to have."

Atton stared at her, disbelieving.

"And I die alone, Atton," Demi said softly. "That's the sacrifice I will make. I die, so that the rest of you can go on living. I hope that my life won't be taken in vain. You will make mistakes, I know we all will, but hopefully you will also be helping others. Because if, in the big, grand, scheme of things, everything we do means nothing, then that nothing we do means everything. One moment, one decision, one person. That can change a person's life, and that one person could change the world. Too bad I can't ever really be a part of it, huh?"

Demi smiled sadly, and left.

Atton sat there, struck into silence. _Damn,_ he thought grudgingly. _Now she's made me care about her even more._

**::.Med Bay, Ebon Hawk.::**

Demi sat beside Brianna, and held her hand. Brianna's eyes were closed.

"I'm sorry I never got to know you better," Demi whispered. "I know we talked that one time, back on Telos, and I wish I could show you the Force. But I can't. Not now." Demi swallowed. "We're going to find a cure for you, okay? And—and…I want you to know that you've had this positive effect on Leo ever since you got here. And for that, I'm grateful. You're a strong person, Brianna. I don't know what these Sith did to you, but I know you're going to make it through."

Leo listened to this from the outside, and was startled when he heard Demi say his name…again.

"Leo?" she said tentatively. "Come in here."

Leo came inside, a guilty smile coming over his face. "One of the downs of having a Jedi sister," he said, sitting down next to her. "You can't eavesdrop on her at all."

"Leo," said Demi, pulling her knees to her chest. "Am I a liar? I mean, do I lie to myself? Tell myself what I want to hear?"

Leo raised his eyebrows. "And I'm the one who's supposed to answer this for you?"

"You can't answer a question with a question."

"That question was my answer."

"It's not an answer at all."

"It questioned your question."

Demi rolled her eyes. "Okay, now we're just going around in circles."

"It's something that you have to solve for yourself. How's that?"

"Hmph," Demi said, then turned to her brother. "I—I want to know everything about you. I really do. I want to know your whole life story, for Force's sake. Because we have so many years of catching up to do, don't we?"

Leo held his sister's gaze, then took a deep breath. "I've been holding out on you," he said finally. "I wasn't sure if…Anyway, here." He took something out of his pocket. "It's a letter," he said. "From our mother, Marian. She wanted you to have it."

Demi took the paper curiously, and started to read, but Leo stopped her. "Not while I'm here. You have to read this by yourself. I'm going to go check on Atton," he said.

Demi nodded, and as he departed, cast her eyes down. This letter was on actual paper, not a datapad, and written in a beautiful, long cursive. And Demi started to read. Then she blinked. And read again.

"This can't be right," she thought.

She thought about calling Leo, but decided against it.

_I'm related to the Telos Ice Queen?_ she wondered, in amazement.

::.**Coruscant**.::

"You're a stuck-up jerk! You're a two-faced, bantha poodoo, smelly, _prat_. I don't even know if that's a word, but you ARE one! You're…"

"I'm so bad that words can't describe me?"

"Exactly!" Mission exclaimed.

Dustil smiled wryly. "Then why waste words?"

Mission narrowed her eyes. "You deliberately stole from my Telosian chocolate collection! Do you know how _rare_ that stuff is?!"

"Geez, Mission, calm down," Dustil said. "It was only one bar."

"Wrong move," Carth said, from the other side of the room. "Women hate it when you tell them to calm down."

"You're damn right!" Mission yelled. "Don't tell me to calm down, when Elaine is out in the Outer Rim all alone, when I find out my brother has been in league with this huge, evil company, and when I found out he was also _cloned! A_nd I actually thought…" Mission swallowed, unable to go on. She turned to Mira and Bastila who were sitting at a small table, both writing in their datapads. "And do you know what's the worst part?"

"Let me guess," said Mira, deleting some typo she had made while writing. "He ate the chocolate right in front of you?"

"She's good," Mission remarked.

"Hey," Ian said, bursting into the room, heading towards Dustil. "Mical's giving us entry into the Jedi Historical Records. Want to come?"

Dustil nodded, relieved.

"I'm not finished with you!" Mission shouted after him, as he made his quick escape from the young twi'lek's wrath. "You'll find a poisonous gizka in your bed yet!"

"I look forward to it," Dustil said upon leaving. "I've always wanted one of those for a pet."

Mission blinked. "Force, I hate that guy," she muttered darkly, sitting down next to Carth.

"Watch it," said Carth lightly, turning over a page in the newspaper. "That's my son you're talking about there."

And then, another person burst through the doors with a loud force, causing Mira to jump in alarm, thus making another typo. "Frack!" she breathed. "Force, do none of you know how to knock?!"

"Hey, Red Mane," Canderous said, coming over to their table. He didn't pull up a chair, though. "Behaving yourself?"

Mira smiled lightly. Back when he had first joined the crew, after Onderon, he had brought back a load of memories, of times when she had been part of a Mandalorian camp herself. They got along all right. "I'm not breaking through doors like yourself, if that's what you mean. How are doing, Candy Man?"

Canderous blinked. "What, in the name of Onderon and its ruler Queen Talia, did you just call me?!"

"Candy Man." Mira shrugged. "It's not any worse than 'Red Mane.' Put Canderous and Mandalore together, and what do you get?"

Mission laughed. "That's a good one. I'm going to call you that for the rest of your life," she informed Canderous.

"Now I'm starting to hope it'll be a short one," Canderous muttered. He turned to Bastila. "I have urgent news for you."

Bastila didn't look up, trying to work through all of this noise. "Please, Canderous, I'm busy."

At this, Canderous slammed a fist down hard on the table in front of her. Their mugs of caffa and juma rattled, some of the contents spilling over and staining the table.

"Have I gotten your attention yet?" he said pointedly.

"Well, you've bloody well gotten mine!" Mira grumbled.

"Was that really necessary?" Bastila said, resignedly putting her datapad down.

"Your mother," Canderous said. "Remember her? Back on Tatooine, you told her to come back here, to Coruscant. Now I know you both aren't exactly shopping buddies, but she's _dying_. She needs you there, by her side."

It was Bastila's turn to blink in confusion. "She's what?"

"I'll have a shuttle arranged for both of you," Carth said instantly, standing up.

"There's no need," Canderous said. "We can walk. She's just at the Healing Center. I was there a while ago, stocking up on supplies."

"Let's go," Bastila said instantly, tucking the datapad in her robes and striding out of the room with Canderous.

"Bye, Candy Man," Mission said quietly, and then it was just her, Mira, and Carth left in the room.

* * *

A/N: 'Why I do the things I do the way I do them.' Try saying that ten times fast! lol Force, I love these characters. They're making me cuss in Star Wars language, even. I once called somebody a 'schutta' and he had no idea what I was talking about. Thank goodness for KOTOR. See you in the next chapter. 


	21. 20: Interlude

**Chapter 20 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Interlude

_**Y**ou'll be right here with me. Playing pazaak, where they can't reach you._

"Idiot," Atton said darkly.

_Well. I'm a confusing person._

"Yeah," Atton muttered, trying in vain to twist off the cork of the bottle of Telosian Ale. Age seemed to have made opening it a much harder task. "And one who needs to get his head checked, too."

_You don't have to go, you know. Let the galaxy take care of itself for once._

"What the hell was I thinking, telling her that?"

"Query: Telling who what, Master Rand?"

"It's none of your business, HK, and is there not a single damn bottle opener in this whole fracking ship?!!!" He was about to attempt to smash the bottle open, at this rate.

"Mockery: My, such language. I had no idea meatbags could be so vigorous with their words. Statement: I seem to remember some Wookiee curses, if you would be interested."

"No, HK," Atton said exasperatedly. "What I'm interested in is a solid night of good, old-fashioned _drunkenness._"

"Statement: Ah, I see. The Master Rand wishes to drown away his sorrows with that horrible, acidic substance. It makes my circuits go haywire at just the thought of it. Speculation: And how does he expect to fly the ship, in such a state?"

"Don't call me that," said Atton, taking out his laser and using it on the cork to open the bottle, even though he knew that using it would make it impossible to put back on. But that didn't matter. He was making it his goal to drink the whole bottle anyway. "And I'm not the only one that can fly this tin bucket, anyway."

"Mockery: Such responsibility. Query: Would this sudden urge to kill away his brain cells be caused by his certain conversation with a certain exile?"

Atton held the dangerous laser up at HK. "Okay, three things need to be sorted out right now. One: The 'Exile' has a name, and you better start using it. Second: Stop referring to me as though I wasn't standing right in front of you. And thirdly: I want to make it clear that I don't like you at all, and if you stick around for one more second, I may be forced to use this on you." Atton lowered his voice. "I hear it can pierce a hole right through a droid's armor plating, but I've never had the chance to find out. How about it, HK? Are you up for a little experiment?"

"Bewildered Statement: Already the meatbag is threatening me, even without the encouragement of a little alchohol to his very small brain. Speculation: This seems to prove that it is, indeed, his conversation with the Exile that has started this little pity party."

"Force, are you deaf?!" Atton yelled. "Why don't you just get out of here and go hack into the navigational systems with the other little trash compactor? Why don't you?"

"Atton, calm down," said Leo, coming into the main hold. "What's wrong?" he said, concerned.

"Statement: Master Rand and Demia Thress—"

"Shove it, HK!" Atton roared.

"Resigned Statement: So be it, Master Rand." And the assassin droid left.

"Force, I hate droids," Atton muttered, crumbling into a seat, and putting his head in his hands.

"What was HK talking about?" Leo inquired.

"Nothing," Atton grumbled, sitting back up. "Demi just drives me mad, that's all."

Suddenly, before Atton could react, a solid fist made contact with his jaw, making Atton fall and stumble out of his chair, and land on the floor. For a white-haired boy, Leo could sure punch hard. He and Demi had that trait in common with each other. "What was that about?" Atton sputtered, the side of his face feeling numb, and probably red.

"You're the reason that she's locked herself in her room, aren't you?" Leo demanded. "What did you do to her?"

"I didn't do anything!" Atton exclaimed. He had been trying to figure out Leo's character ever since he got here, and suddenly the term, _Protective,_ came to mind.

"I know for a fact that finding out Atris is her aunt isn't what's bothering her," Leo continued.

"Atris?" Atton interrupted, raising his eyebrows.

"Is her aunt, yes. She took it quite well, considering the circumstances. No. She told me earlier, that you two had had an argument while you were out getting our food rations, and then she just left it at that. But she's my sister, Atton. And I know she doesn't tell me everything; she doesn't want to make a big deal out of anything—"

"Doesn't want to make a big deal out of anything?" Atton managed. "Look, all I know is, we argued, we kissed, and then, whaddya know? We're arguing again!"

"You kissed?" Leo said, surprised. He took a deep breath. "Well, she certainly left that part out."

"I thought she would," Atton said darkly. "Anyway, then she goes on this whole rant, and then tells me that she's going to go inside Nausuma by herself, all alone, that is—" he said as he began to pour himself some strange looking liquid from the bottle "—and she's going to end up dying, and that in doing so, _somehow_ that'll save the galaxy, but I didn't really go into details since she was still all into her little rant and I didn't want to interrupt her, and now, I'm so messed up that I think that _you_ should pilot the ship, while I get drunk and hungover, in that order, and then you tell me when we're in Nar Shaddaa so I can complete the cycle all over again. How does that sound?"

He poured himself a little too much liquor, some of it spilling over the edges of the cup, and Leo took the bottle away from him.

"What in the Force is this?" Leo said, staring at the bottle with a weird expression on his face. "It doesn't look sanitary."

"It's JuCoTa, an original Atton concoction, made up of juma, Corellian whiskey, and Tarisian ale," Atton drawled, obviously already affected by it. "Care for some?"

"I'll pass, thanks," Leo said, letting go of the bottle. He was deep in thought. "She said she was going into Nausuma alone?"

"That's right."

"I'm going to tell her that's not possible," Leo said, standing up. "She can't get inside Nausuma alone. Unless, of course, she went to the Dark Side, fully and completely."

"What?" Atton said, looking up. Now he wished he hadn't mixed all three of those drinks together. He had only had a few swigs, but combined together, it made it so much harder to think, much sooner than usual.

"You see, you can't get inside Nausuma unless somebody with you touches the Shift, the atmosphere of the planet, and if that person who does so has been one with the Dark Side at least once, before coming back to the Light."

"That sounds like a job for me, then," Atton said, slurring his words.

"You?" Leo said in surprise.

Atton sighed. "Long story." He half-smiled. "I guess Demi really does need me for this, after all."

Leo stood up. "Well. Demi trusts you, so I'll just leave it at that. I'm going to go tell Demi. I'll be back soon."

"Right," Atton agreed.

"Atton," Leo said suddenly, coming back. "I'm sorry for punching you. I just…I'm not a Jedi. It's harder for me to control my emotions. And us, controlling the fate of the cosmos, Brianna under some strange illness, and now this, it's a little too much, you know?"

"You don't need to explain anything," Atton said. "It just took me by surprise, that's all. I mean, I never really took you for a 'punch first and ask questions later' kind of guy, if I know what I mean."

Leo smiled wryly. "There's a first time for everything."

"And I'm always that lucky first, aren't I?"

Leo shook his head companionably, and departed.

Atton stood up hesitantly, leaving the bottle there on the table, suddenly not very much in the mood for getting drunk. You have to be in the mood for that sort of thing.

He drained a glass of water, and felt a little better. At least his surroundings weren't blurry anymore. He headed off in no specific direction, and found himself right outside the medbay, where Brianna still lay, in a trance.

Then slowly, he took in three things. One, Demi was related to Atris. Two, Atton now had a Force bond with Demi. And three, he had no idea what that meant.

He knew Demi and Kreia had shared one, and Kreia had always been getting in her head, telling her what to do. But when she had died, did the Force bond break? Or had she taken a bit of Demi with her?

Atton, with one hand on the outside of the med bay door, closed his eyes to feel his surroundings just like Demi had taught him.

_Take away the hard material of the ship,_ she had said. _And focus on the Force, a faint whisper, and just let it grow. Don't think about hearing or seeing or even thinking, just focus on what the people _feel. _If you do it right, you'll take away the cover and you can skim lightly over their thoughts. I know you won't abuse this power. It can be useful, but if you have to really struggle, stop. You know better than I the dark secrets some people keep, and maybe, it's better to let them rest. Sometimes, it's even better if they gain enough trust in you to tell you themselves. Anyway, this is one thing I've learned how to do. The mind, your thoughts, they may be the only thing we can truly keep to ourselves. So with this, comes responsibility. Know when to keep going, and when to stop._

There was Leo, hesitating outside Demi's door. _Who has been sending her these dreams? Why is she so willing to give her life away? Why does she feel so distant to me?_

Atton couldn't hear the thoughts of the droids, but slowly, he could hear Demi's. Her voice came clearer than Leo's, and Atton held back in the corner of her mind, wondering if she felt his presence, and whether he should say something.

_+9, hold at 18. Or was it_ stand_ at 18? Anyway, stop at 18…Why couldn't I just have said I was sorry?—Start over+2, flip card…I always have to rant, don't I?—Why did I flip the card? Force, I'm bad at this. Start over. +7+29…Why did he say we weren't friends? I thought…9+514…Force bond. But it's different from the one I shared with Kreia's somehow. Except for the fact that it makes about as much sense, which is to say, none at all…14+721-120…he said love?_

Suddenly, the voices, abstract and talking over each other, ceased.

_Atton?_ Demi said hesitantly, and quickly Atton withdrew, heart pounding fast.

_That little minx,_ he thought, smiling a bit. _Counting pazaak in her head. Badly too, but still._

Atton sighed, and then, another voice said his name. But it wasn't Demi's, Atton knew that instantly.

_Atton,_ Brianna said. It wasn't a question. Her voice was so distant, he could barely hear her thoughts.

"Yeah?" Atton said, coming inside the medbay to Brianna's side.

_I can barely hear you,_ Brianna said, her body motionless. Her eyelashes framed her closed eyes, and even like this, she looked beautiful. _Where are you?_

_I'm here,_ Atton responded, this time, not out loud.

Talking to Brianna, telepathically, was different. Atton had to read her thoughts, like being on her end of the comm, instead of at the receiving end, the latter which was what it was like when he talked to Demi.

_How do you feel?_ he asked her.

_Like…like I'm drowning in this sea of darkness…and, and blankness. I can't move or feel in this state. I feel like slowly, I'm being reeled in to some fate I don't want, and soon I'll disappear forever._

_All right, so, not very good then._ Atton pulled up a chair and sat beside her. _Brianna, who or what is Yashel? Do you know what's happening to you?_

_Atris once told me about an enchantment such as the one now put upon me. I think…that if I am not cured in time, slowly, this thing that now has control of me, will gather all my energy from me, and I'll be stuck, immobile, in this state, till eternity. I—I don't want that. I've worked so hard to…_

Here her voice faded out, then it came back.

_This may be the only way that we can communicate, and soon, this might be gone too._

There was a pause.

_Demi is related to Atris,_ Atton said. _And so is Leo. Did you know that?_

_No,_ Briana said, sounding surprised. _But I guess that explains his hair…It's gorgeous, but different. I asked when we first met, if he was part Echani, but he said no. Atris isn't either, and she's not too old, so I have no idea why her hair is like that…Anyhow, thank you for telling me this._

_Sure,_ Atton said.

_I…suppose that you'd like me to tell you how to get to Atris from here, wherever we are. I could probably draw a map for you, with my mind, or…something. I'm not very…_

Her voice wavered off again, and Atton worried that he didn't have much time. _Demi won't hear of it,_ he said. _We're heading over to good old Nar Shaddaa right now. She wants to heal you. We all do. Leo especially. And me…too._

Brianna's lips looked like they might have formed a smile…but no. It was just a ghostly, wishful thinking on Atton's part. She looked frozen in time.

_Brianna, what's Yashel? A person? A place?_

_Yashel is somebody who I expect has my cure. You will find him on Nar Shaddaa. I've never been there before, but Atris has heard of him and told me he is a healer of all kinds, especially by wounds made by the Sith. He likes staying hidden, but he can help. He may be the only one who can._

She was struggling to form these words, Atton could tell. She looked so pale, so cold, and so white.

Atton hesitated, then took off his outer Jedi robe, and laid it over her like a blanket, and tucked in the corners. He wasn't sure if Brianna could even feel this, but that was all right. This was just like he had done for Elle before. Elle might have been Brianna's age now.

_Keep holding on,_ Atton said, as he stood up to go. He remembered the words he had spoken to Demi, that he thought Brianna would not make it. Suddenly, it hurt to look at her.

_Wait!_ Brianna cried, so urgently that she startled Atton.

_Yeah? What's wrong?_

_I…_ She hesitated. _I need you to promise me something. Please. It's—it's the only thing I'll ask for._

Another promise. Tentatively, Atton asked, _What is it?_

_I want you…_

_What?!_ Atton said, bewildered.

He could sense Brianna mentally rolling her eyes. _Not like that, Atton. You didn't let me finish. I want you to teach me…I mean, if, or when, I get better…Could you…Will you do me the honor of teaching me about the Force?_

Atton inhaled sharply. _Brianna, that's…I'm hardly…Demi's really the one you should ask about that. Apparently, I'm…_

_I want it to be you,_ Brianna said, sounding desperate now, as though she knew that maybe this was the last time she would be able to talk to him. _This is the one thing I need, the one thing that will keep me holding on, as you said. Aside from…Well, Leo. He cares so much. Like you and Demi. No one, before, has ever truly…_

_I promise,_ Atton said.

This time, he didn't need to see her smile. He could hear it in her voice, and she sighed, as though at peace at last.

_Thank you, Atton,_ she said.

Atton turned to leave again, then Brianna said, _One last thing._

Atton waited expectantly.

_Hurry._

::.**Coruscant, nighttime**.:: 

"Dustil?" Mission said cautiously, seeing a dark shape sitting on a bench in the garden at Coruscant, looking up at the sky above him.

Dustil glanced at Mission, and smiled. "Hey, Mish." Seeing the look on her face, he added quickly, "—ion."

"Thank you," Mission said curtly, sitting down next to him. They looked up at the sky, with stars scattered across it as though a magical chariot had flown across the sky and left behind a sparkling trail of twinkling stars. "It's pretty, isn't it? Back on Taris, me and Griff, we'd be exploring the rooftops, and we'd see stuff like this. But it was only when he left that I really started exploring underground."

"Are you and Griff really close?"

Mission sighed. "Yeah. Well, we used to be, at least. But he's like a kid, you know? And then, he went and got himself cloned. But you know. He's my brother. Crazy dreamer or no." She paused, then said, "I'm more close to Big Z. Him and me, we're a package deal."

"So I've noticed. " Dustil cleared his throat. "So. What are you doing out here so late at night?"

Mission raised her eyebrows. "Are you saying I'm not allowed to be?"

Dustil laughed. "No, of course not. Man, you get really defensive, don't you? You think everybody's in on some great conspiracy of calling you a kid."

"Hey, you try surviving alone one some planet where everybody takes advantage of the fact that you can actually swing a vibrolade and pick through locks, just 'cause you're younger than them. People just wanted to use me sometimes, but I never let them."

"I know the feeling," Dustil said, exhaling.

Mission looked sideways at him, re-positioning herself so she sat cross-legged on the stone bench. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

There was silence for a few moments. There was the sound of an insect chirping off somewhere in the bushes.

"You really don't think I'm a kid?" Mission asked, finally.

Dustil smiled at her. "No, I don't. I think you're a very capable, spunky, and smart young woman who knows how to take care of herself and, to top it all off, can deal a mean hand of pazaak."

Mission was grinning ear to ear. "Gee. Thanks, Dustil." She paused. "But that still isn't going to stop me from giving you a poisonous gizka one of these days."

"I didn't think it would," Dustil said, smiling wryly.

Then he sighed, and rubbed his hands together, the cold chill of the night passing over both of them. His eyes were dark, thick with memory and past deeds and choices.

"I've never really noticed this before," said Mission, glancing sideways at him. "I mean, I barely saw you on Korriban. But you're…you're very angry inside, aren't you?"

Dustil looked at her. "I…I suppose I am. It's hard to forget…things sometimes."

"You know what I wish?"

"What do you wish, Mission?" Dustil asked, smiling fondly at her.

"I wish," she said, "that they invented something where you could just store all of your worries and failures, and then they'd just gather dust there, locked away, and you wouldn't need to have them in your head all the time, like annoying ghosts who want to make you go through a living hell."

"Sometimes…Sometimes I wish that too. But then I think, maybe it's having these past mistakes that make you who you are. I mean, if we forget all about them, who's to say we're not going to make the same mistakes all over again?"

Mission sighed. "You have a point. I guess you're not going to be seeing Mission Vao's Forget-Your-Regrets Box in stores anytime soon." Mission put her feet back on the ground, and tapped her shoes together a few times. "So. What regrets do you have?"

"You know most of them. My mom… But also…" He shook his head. "I miss Selene. She was, well, I guess I loved her. But Master Uthar had her murdered because he thought she was hindering my progress or something equally stupid. Anyway, I hate him. I hate that whole damn place. But mostly, I—I guess I hate me. You know, if I hadn't gone, I never would have met her, but if I hadn't met her, then she'd probably still be alive."

Mission exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry. I mean, I know how depressing it is when somebody says that, but I really mean it. I mean, this dancer, Lena, she took my brother away from me, but at least I found Griff again, and he's still alive."

"Do you want to go back inside?" Dustil inquired after a moment. "I'm freezing my bones off. What do you say to some caffa and a friendly game of pazaak?"

Mission smiled. "Let's go."

She accepted Dustil's elbow, and together, the pair walked back. And the warmth they were both feeling inside had nothing to do with the fires lit in the rooms, not at all.

**::.Ebon Hawk.::**

Demi sat, in the quiet darkness of her room, feeling Atton's presence in her mind disappear. Strange, she thought.

Just then, the door opened and Leo stepped in. "I have a story to tell you," he said to her, sitting down on the floor beside her. Apparently, he could be as straight to the point as Demi sometimes. "It involves me explaining to you about the gizkas you've no doubt discovered, and the reason why you cannot go into Nausuma alone. At least, not without somebody like Atton."

"What?" Demi said, surprised, confused, and about to protest, but Leo cut her off.

"Just listen, sister. This is the story."

**::.The Ebon Hawk, about five years ago.::**

"Aw, they're so cute!" Elaine exclaimed, picking up one of the small, reptilian creatures in her arms, and lifting it up to the ceiling, proudly displaying its green spots. She grinned and turned to Carth. "Aren't they?"

"They have bulging eyes," Carth said, rather grumpily. He was standing amid a sea of gizkas, all hopping happily around him. He didn't want to move, for fear of stepping on one of them. One had planted itself right at his feet. "I don't trust anything with bulging eyes."

"Oh, come on Carthy!" Mission said, in another side of the main hold. She giggled as a gizka licked her cheek. "Can we keep them as pets? I mean, somebody delivered them to us. Maybe they came to us for a reason."

Elaine smiled. "What do you think, Canderous?" she inquired of the Mandalorian.

"They're damn annoying little buggers," Canderous said, as he polished his blaster rifle at the table. "But they aren't really doing any harm."

"Unless we trip over them and break our necks," Carth pointed out.

"Statement: Master, just say the word and I will demolish the whole bunch of these rascally, hippity-hoppity creatures," HK-47 said, with a hint of disgust in his voice as a gizka attempted to jump from the nearby table and onto the top of his head.

**::.Back to the present.::**

Demi was laughing. "I can just picture that!" She sobered down. "But what does this have to do with anything?"

Leo sighed. "To sum it all up, Elaine tried poisoning them, but at the last minute changed her mind. The rest of the gizkas she gave to some collector on Manaan, but because there were two that had been hurt by the poison, I showed Elaine to Griff."

"Mission's brother?" Demi asked.

Leo nodded. "Yes. Elaine didn't want them to die, and luckily, Griff had just the right thing. Some of Vincentii's Clarande V."

"Oh, it has healing powers," said Demi, surprised. "I'd forgotten."

"Not just that," said Leo. "But it makes them somewhat immortal, and makes them live a heck of a lot longer than they would normally. It doesn't compare to the actual Aion-zoë, but it comes close enough."

"So the reason why the two gizkas are still hopping around, even after we crash-landed on Deralia, is because of Clarande-V?"

Leo nodded. "Correct."

"And Elaine kept them?"

"Also correct."

"But then she had to leave for the Outer Rim, and left them here. Wouldn't we have noticed them? I found them first in the gun turret, and…"

T3-M4 suddenly whirred into the room, and came to a slow. _Beep! Bee-doot!_

"Elaine gave them to you for safekeeping?" Demi repeated.

_Whiiirr._

"You carried them around with you all this time, just for her? But then, when you stowed away with us, you were the one who put them in the gun turret." Then she laughed, as T3 chirped in reply. "No wonder I had to repair you so many times. Those gizkas messed up your circuitry."

_Beeeep._

T3 opened up his hatch and deposited the two gizkas that Leo had given to him earlier. Kalam and Naver rolled out and jumped around and around each other, glad to be free. T3 exited the room as Demi held her palm out, and one of them jumped into her hand.

"They'll be fun to have around," Demi said. "And who knows? Maybe they have a big role to play in all this." She turned to her brother. "What did you say about Nausuma? Why can't I go alone?"

Leo repeated what he had told Atton, and Demi's face became unreadable. "How do you know this?" she asked calmly.

"Vincentii," Leo admitted. "They…they know a lot. Sometimes I think they must have some inside source in Nausuma. And…before the crew dropped me off at Tatooine, I talked to Elaine about it. She can be very…persuasive, I suppose. Anyway, Elaine knows how to get inside Nausuma now, and considering she was Darth Revan, she certainly qualifies." He lowered his voice. "What about your dreams, Demi? What do they tell you? Do you know who's sending them?"

Demi turned away, feeling Marian's letter in her pocket. "I don't. And it doesn't matter anymore, I guess."

Leo soon left, but when Demi finally clambered into bed, after laying the two gizkas in their little box, the dreams revisited her.

_Help me,_ Elaine whispered to her in her dreams, her voice sounding fearful, her surroundings dark. Her violet eyes were large and tortured with pain and tears. _Please, Demi. Hurry._

_

* * *

_A/N: As always, please RR&E. (Read, review, and hopefully, enjoy.) :) 


	22. 21: The Chase

**Chapter 21 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: The Chase

_**H**elp me. Demi, please. Hurry._

"I'm coming," Demi said, pushing through the black and purple shrouds of mist that surrounded her. This was a dream, but it didn't feel that way to Demi. Just like the dreams that made her relive her past, this felt real. Very real.

Suddenly, she dropped to the ground, hitting the cold, rough stone hard. Demi slowly got to her feet, coughing. "Elaine?" she said outloud, her voice echoing.

"Over here," Elaine said. Her swollen wrists were chained to the wall above and behind her, and steel bound her ankles. Her dark, wavy hair was still in a ponytail, but her violet eyes seemed hollow and empty.

"What have they done to you?" Demi whispered, kneeling in front of her.

"There's no time. Please, let me out."

Demi ignited her double-bladed, silver lightsaber, and cut through the bonds holding Elaine prisoner. Elaine got up as her ankles were freed, and in turn lighted both of her violet lightsabers.

"Demi, wait," Elaine said, turning towards the panel.

"What is it?" Demi asked, looking where she was facing.

"When I was here," said Elaine, putting her hand over the panel, but not touching it. "They tortured me. They knew physical pain would not hurt me the way they wanted me to hurt, so instead, they tortured me with memories. And this panel was partly the source of them."

"You should destroy it," Demi said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Elaine fingered her lightsabers, but let them drop at her side, hanging on her belt. "No," she said, and headed to the door. "They are a part of me. My weakness, yes, but also my motivation. I can't."

Elaine and Demi exited the tower prison room, and headed down a flight of stairs, made up of stone slabs. They went around and around, making Demi feel like they weren't heading anywhere at all, rather going the wrong way on movable, rotating stairs.

"Why did you come to Nausuma, anyway?" Demi asked, wondering the cause for all of this.

Elaine sighed. "To warn them about a betrayer in their midst. And to get answers. If this was…truly my home."

"Your home?" Demi repeated, startled.

"Yes. Some home, huh? They wanted to turn me to the Dark Side, and have Darth Revan on their side." She smiled fleetingly at Demi. "Thank you for preventing that."

Finally, the stairs ceased, and the two Jedi headed down a corridor, lightsabers at the ready. Elaine, with dark hair, purple eyes, and determined strides, and Demi, petite, with white-blonde hair, and soulful, multi-colored eyes that twinkled even now. As they headed down the hall, moving at a brisk pace, it felt as though nothing could stand in either of their way. Nothing.

But they both knew better.

"Do they know that I've set you free?" Demi said in an undertone.

Elaine nodded. "They're coming after us even now."

Demi listened, and suddenly heard a thundering, a thundering of dozens of feet and war cries behind them.

"Run," Elaine said, and they both started sprinting, wind rustling past them. Occasionally, they looked back over their shoulders. The shadows behind them were growing, playing on the torch-lit walls.

"There's the door!" Elaine yelled, shoving Demi towards it.

"I'm not leaving you!" Demi said back, whirling around. "I have to bring you back. To Carth. He wanted me to tell you that he is waiting for you, even now."

Elaine's expression was hard, yet soft at the same time, especially at the mention of Carth's name. "He's just going to have to wait a little longer then," she said softly. "I'm not done here yet."

"I'm not going anywhere!" Demi said defiantly. "I'm going to fight by your side. Together we can defeat them all." She looked at the door. "Either that, or we're leaving together."

Elaine shook her head, and touched Demi's hand briefly. "There will be a time for that," she said. "But it is not now." She glanced at the Sith in black, who now swarmed in the hall toward them, spinning out their red lightsabers, one at a time.

Then she turned back to Demi. Their eyes both met. They were so different, but there was a bond between them, something strong, something they both shared and understood, something no one else could. It was the weight of the galaxy on both of their shoulders, a burden that they both carried. They may not have known each other well, but it is because of these two that there is a story at all.

"Someday," Elaine continued to Demi. "But if you don't wake up now, you're going to die."

Demi held her gaze evenly. Elaine spoke as though that was fact.

"I have questions," Demi said.

"It's too late for that now."

The Sith were right behind Elaine. "Go!" Elaine exclaimed, and pushed Demi toward the door, but instead of hitting it hard, black wisps of darkness entangled Demi and pulled her away.

"Elaine!" Demi shouted.

Her last sight was of Elaine, black hair flying, lightsabers flashing, holding off the Sith so that Demi could escape. _No,_ Demi thought, watching as Elaine cut down Sith after Sith, even as they surrounded her. _I'm supposed to be there with her…_

Demi awoke with a start, in her bed in the Ebon Hawk, breathing hard. Only to find herself looking into the eyes of Atton. His brown hair fell lazily over his forehead, and two arms were on either side of her, preventing her from getting up. He was so close that she could see the flecks of hazel and brown in his eyes, each and every single one…

"I'm not taking that for an answer," he said now.

"W-What?" Demi breathed, confused, leaning back on her elbows .

And then she woke up again, staring right into the barrel of HK-47's blaster rifle.

Demi panicked, and clutched the bedsheets to herself. "What the _hell_, HK?!" she demanded, flustered, her heart pounding.

The rifle lowered. "Apology: I am sorry, Master, but you were rolling around in your bed, muttering in your sleep. It seemed such a desperate case that only a good, reassuring death threat would work. Even for a meatbag, you sleep much too long. Clarification: The white-haired meatbag sent me to tell you that we have indeed landed in the marvelous cesspit more commonly known as Nar Shaddaa."

Demi swallowed, gathering her bearings. "Of course, Leo had to send the homicidal, assassin droid," she muttered. She pushed back the sheets and swung her small, bare feet onto the floor. "I'm up, HK. Tell Leo I'll be out in a bit."

"Obliging Statement: Very well, Master."

HK left, and Demi shut the door softly behind him.

In the silence of her room, Demi sighed and laid her forehead against the wall. "Oh, Elaine," she breathed softly. "Did I really set you free? Are you the one sending me these dreams? How? Why?"

A few minutes later, Demi entered the cockpit, pulling on one shoulder of her brown Jedi robe. "What did I miss?" she asked, breathless.

Leo looked up at her arrival. He had been leaning against the wall, an ankle crossed over the other. His silver swoop racing uniform matched his hair perfectly. "Welcome back," he said.

Atton, in the pilot's seat, gestured out at the huge window. "And welcome to Nar Shaddaa."

**::.Atton's point of view.::**

Ah, the lovely stench of desperate living.

I was wondering if I was ever going to see this place again. No, that's stupid. Somehow, I always end up here. This'll probably be the place in which I inevitably get buried six feet down under. Another cheerful thought. Maybe that's what Demi meant, about Kreia's prediction about where I was going to end up. Here, drinking the booze, losing myself in the city streets. There are worse things, I think. Still. I don't like how, even though she's dead and gone, that old witch's presence seems to always be around, manifesting itself, her voice always intruding Demi's head. I hate it.

Anyway, I'm back here, at the start of all things. I'm not quite sure what it is yet, but something's different about this place. You know that feeling you get when you've accidentally missed a step going down a flight of stairs? Like you missed something, you've been caught off guard, surprised, and there's a weird jolt of reality that hits you. It's like that now. There's just this weird buzz in the air…something familiar. And dangerous.

That's something you can always count on Nar Shaddaa for: Danger. Good old Nar Shaddaa. Nobody belongs here on this Forceforsaken planet, and since we're all nobodies, we all belong. And that's what makes us stay, tying ourselves to this planet, digging at the corners, saying we're stuck at this junk heap 'till eternity, when what's really keeping us is this unsaid obligation: That Nar Shaddaa, miserable, decaying city that it is, is our home.

I'm not sure how we all found ourselves here, but we did. There's a cycle that goes on here, too. It's a code that's made to be broken, consisting of conflicting ideas, easily picked up and easily changed. You stick to your own business, while keeping an ear out for news; you watch your own back, and go into the most dangerous streets; trust nobody, and know everybody else's story; pay off your debts and gamble some more; drink up your freedom and lose it to a chancy game of pazaak; dream of something more and miss your flight out one minute too late.

There was a time that I used to be able to blend into these streets; a grudging sort of understanding made between me and whoever I crossed; a time that I topped the winnings at the pazaak tables and held a sort of record in this city. Now, I'm not really sure where I stand. On anything, really. I suppose the best I can hope for is to not look too much like a tourist, what with who I have in tow.

Anyway, we're heading down the ramp now, off to make our first steps into the city.

But something's not right. I'm not sure what it is, but it feels like, now that we're actually here, something's been set into motion. I don't like this feeling. I think it's a trap.

And I'm rarely wrong about these things.

**::.Nar Shaddaa.::**

"Halt!"

A voice rang out through the air, like a crack of a whip.

Demi, Atton, and Leo turned around. HK-47 and T3-M4 were staying with the ship, despite Leo's bad feelings about this. Part of him wanted to stay by Brianna's side, but another stronger part of him wanted to help in the search for the cure as well.

An officer in a blue uniform strode towards them, flanked by two others.

"Code, please?"

Demi exchanged a glance with Leo, who shrugged.

Demi cleared her throat. "Code?"

The officer sighed loudly. "Yes. You've docked here, and in order to keep your docking station, I'm going to need to see actual evidence that you have the IDs necessary to stay here. It's a new protocol. If you don't have one, you will need to register."

"Oh, no, I have one." Demi hurriedly raised her wrist, so the silver links that Dane had given her back on Deralia would be more visible.

The officer inspected it, and jotted down the digits on a piece of paper. "Thank you. We will inspect your identities in a matter of…"

"Hold on," Atton interrupted. "Since when did Nar Shaddaa have Republic forces stationed here?"

"Ever since a culprit, a dangerous criminal, was last seen here. This criminal has recently broken free, and this could cause serious predicaments, putting the lives of every being here in jeopardy."

Atton laughed dryly. "Oh, right, because nobody on Nar Shaddaa has ever been involved in illegal smuggling, bounty hunting, murder, or just downright fraud. What, nobody here, except for one person, holds a criminal record now? What planet are you on? Because last time I checked, we were on Nar Shaddaa. There's a reason it's called the Smuggler's Moon, you know."

The officer ignored this. "Call it what you like, but us Republic soldiers will occupy this planet until this criminal can be put to death or prison, although considering how slippery this culprit is, an execution would be more appropriate. Until then, nobody is allowed to leave Nar Shaddaa. We've installed something in the atmosphere so that only incoming cargo ships, or travelers like yourself, can come in. Anyone trying to leave will automatically be blown to space dust. The atmosphere is sealed to any trying to leave."

Atton was furious. "A quarantine. Couldn't you have told us this _before_ we got in?"

This was going to make it easier for Vincentii to find them, which wasn't great odds at all. Perhaps they should find something to wear in disguise…perhaps that would slow them down. All three of them were thinking this when the officer continued.

"It's important that shipments of fuel, etcetera, can come in," said the officer, "and we have no authority to prevent travelers from doing their own business here."

Atton stepped up closer to the officer. "Business? Let me tell you something about business. If you Republic lot think you can actually keep Nar Shaddaa under control, sticking your noses where they don't belong, you're wrong. If I know Nar Shaddaa, which I do, you're not welcome here. You may think you have the power here, but it's in name only. Here, corporations like the Exchange rule everything. You stick out more than you know, what with your uniforms and titles, and basically, you're targets for the thugs here, a label over your head saying, 'Fresh Meat.' You don't know anything about Nar Shaddaa."

The officer looked like he had heard all of this before. In fact, he looked rather bored. "Half of my recruits are refugees who've lived here for a number of years and know how things run. Don't bother your head about us. If I were you, I'd worry more about the culprit on the loose."

"Nar Shaddaa is going to get overcrowded," Leo muttered.

"I know," said the officer. "Which is precisely why we'd like to find the criminal as soon as we can."

Demi turned to the officer. "Who is this criminal we're talking about?"

The officer snapped his fingers at one of the recruits behind him, who handed him a holopad, displaying a picture of the culprit on it.

Surprisingly, it was a picture of a beautiful woman, with long, curly, brown hair and sparkling green eyes. Her lips were in a slight smirk, as though she knew that for every move she made, the Republic soldiers would be one step behind.

"Has she caused any destruction?" Leo inquired.

"She's left marks all over the city, if that's what you mean," said the officer. "We're not the only ones after her. There's a bounty on her almost as large as any Jedi. She's left a trail of bodies all over the place, bombed buildings, manipulated her way everywhere…She's caused such a commotion it's almost as if she's looking for attention. And just as we think we have her under our nets, she slips away again. She may be working alongside somebody else who's more powerful than us. Or maybe she's just stealthy that way. We don't know."

"Of course," said Atton. His face was expressionless. "Of course she'd come here. Damn her. This is my city."

Demi looked up at Atton. "You know her?"

Atton looked at her once, then turned away, looking off into the city. "Know her?" He laughed, a strange, hollow laugh. "I know pretty much everything about her. Her name is Renee, isn't it?"

The officer nodded. "That's the one. There's no last name to go with her, I'm afraid. You'd think she be harmless, but you'd be dead wrong. She kills without caring, she kills and _enjoys_ it."

"Some people play pazaak, others kill for fun," Atton muttered under his breath. "Shit. This is just perfect. Just great." He ran his hand through his hair. _Demi, we have to get out of here,_ he communicated to her. _I don't care what it takes, infiltrate the whole damn Republic quarters here, and take down that atmosphere cloak, I don't care, as long as we're at least two galaxies away from Nar Shaddaa._

"Atton," said Demi quietly. "Who is she?"

"Look, we don't have time for this!" Atton said agitatedly. He grabbed the officer roughly by his collar, and the two soldiers behind him instantly raised their blasters.

"Atton!" Leo exclaimed angrily. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Let us out of here!" Atton growled in the officer's face. "Let us out of here, or I swear on the Force that—"

Demi roughly ran in, and lightly put a hand on his arm that held the officer a few inches from the ground. _Atton, unless you're completely out of your mind, let him down. We're here for a reason, remember? And he might be able to help us._

Atton grudgingly dropped the officer back on the ground.

"Right," said the officer, regaining composure and dignity. "I'm going to be looking into your files, whoever you all are." He turned to Atton. "Especially you. How do you know her? Meet her as you were both locked behind force cages, perhaps?"

Atton scowled at him.

"We're friends of Carth Onasi," said Demi quickly. "You know him, right? We're on a mission for him. Now we're sort of on a side mission, but after we complete this mission, and if we…" She thought fast. "If we capture this…_Renee_ for you, will you let down whatever shield you've put on the atmosphere so we can leave?"

"Without us blowing up into a million pieces," Leo added.

The officer laughed softly. "You sound so sure of yourselves. We've been after this suspect for weeks. She's relentless. She's full of energy. She acts as though she's not scared of us at all, and as though we're not even remotely a threat to her."

"That's the only thing you've said all day that I actually agree with," Atton said.

"But if you really think you can capture her," the officer continued, "we'll need all the help we can get. And you all look quite capable."

"One last thing," said Demi. "Have you heard of anybody called 'Yashel'? He's some type of healer."

The officer looked at her strangely. "Can't say that I have. You might want to check the cantina. Word travels around fast there; somebody around there should know."

"Force," Leo muttered as the officer and his two companions walked away. "We come here to save Brianna, we get locked in, and on top of that we need to capture some killer on the loose if we want to get out."

"Welcome to Nar Shaddaa," Atton said dryly.

**::.Later.::**

It always seemed like nighttime in Nar Shaddaa.

That was what it was now, the lights from the buildings like pinpricks illuminating the city. Speeders and shuttles zoomed high above them as they made their way towards the cantina. Glowing neon lights in red outlined the doorway as they stepped nearer to it.

"So, Renee," Demi said to Atton. "What else do you know about her?"

Atton sighed. "If you run into her, get ready to block. She has a passion for kicking. Hard. Also, if you need more to identify her, she has a black tattoo of a swan, made up of brush strokes, on her lower back."

Demi nodded slowly. "That could be useful. If I was staring at her…" She paused and stopped in her tracks, as Atton and Leo kept walking. "How do you know that?!"

**::.Inside.::**

"Weapons," growled the amiable Gamorrean bouncer once they entered.

Demi exchanged a look with Leo and Atton, then sighed, and turned back to the bouncer. "You will let us keep our weapons" she said, using a touch of Force behind her words.

"I will let you keep your weapons," said the bouncer tonelessly, and then he blinked. "And by that, I mean you can pick it up, _after_ you finish getting drunk and finish losing all of your credits in the pazaak den."

_Note to self,_ Demi thought. _Improve your Force persuasion._ "It's fine," Demi said to Leo and Atton. "Hopefully, there'll be no need for any fighting."

"You forget the time those two twi'leks attacked me in there," said Atton in an undertone. _And everybody else just sat back for the show…_

_Keep your lightsaber,_ Demi said to him, communicating to him through their bond. _Just in case._ They had both kept their lightsabers hidden on the part of their belts kept under cover by their Jedi robes. Demi had decided she would wear her robe, no matter whether Vincentii would find them again. _Not_ wearing it hadn't worked, and the (torn) dress she had worn instead, sorely lacking protection and length, was something Demi, for the life of her, would never wear again.

Leo spun out his two blasters, Atton a vibroblade, and Demi a double-bladed force pike she had been holding.

"Come on now," said the bouncer. "Let's have all of it. And hurry up. You're holding up the door."

There was actually nobody behind them, but that didn't faze the bouncer one bit.

Atton hitched out three mines from his belt, Leo took out a handy dagger, and Demi, of all things, pulled out two ornamental chopsticks from her hair and dropped it in the crate.

"What?" she demanded to their questioning looks. "They're pointy, like little daggers. Much sharper and dangerous than they look, I can tell you."

"That's all?" said the bouncer.

In answer to this, Leo tossed down a few grenades with a, "Careful with those." Atton reluctantly took out his hole-searing red laser from his boot, and Demi a small blaster pistol.

"Are you done yet?" grumbled the bouncer.

At this, Leo set down a bulky blaster rifle, and Atton a fist of steel, flexing it once under the surprised bouncer's nose, so the spikes on the knuckles of it were visible, protruding dangerously. Demi took off two rocket launchers from her wrists.

"If you insist," she sighed, giving them away. "Take care of those. Mira'll have my head if you damage them."

The bouncer was looking very grumpy, and started to mark their overflowing box and dump it behind the counter unceremoniously, but Demi said, "Wait," and took out three poisoned darts from her pocket. "All done," she said, with a teasing smile.

"_Holy Force,_ what kind of people are you?" the bartender stuttered.

"The kind that you don't want to mess with," Demi said, as they disappeared into the cantina.

**::.In the cantina.::**

"Why are you so twitchy?" Demi said to Atton, who kept looking over his shoulder uneasily.

"I'm not," he said defensively. "I'm just on guard."

"We'll find Renee later," Demi said, hoping to assure him. "Right now, our main focus is helping Brianna."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about finding Renee," Atton said. "She'll find us. I wouldn't be surprised if she already knows we're here. It's always her who gets to make the first move." He glanced around the cantina again. "Always."

The cantina was darker than Demi remembered, and it was as though it had undergone renovation. The room was bigger, the bar was longer, and there was a large space spread out, clear of any tables, on which a single spotlight shined.

"I'll talk to the bartender about Yashel," Leo said, heading over to the bar at which many patrons sat on stools. "He's bound to know something."

Demi was about to ask Atton a question about Renee, when a steady beat on a percussion drum, decorated with beads, sounded. And then the music followed. It wasn't the usual tin-can sounding recorded series of notes; instead, a player with quick, deft fingers worked her way up a board of rectangular buttons, from which emitted a sound. It was musical and enticing.

Two dancers, hired performers probably, made their way to the spotlight, holding hands with each other, held high to applause. They were both tall with dark skin, elegant and exotic all at once. And then began the song.

The female singer, also playing the strange instrument, had a sultry voice, beautiful and mellow. And the two dancers moved to the rhythm, dancing together, acting as one body. They seemed to be telling a story, of want and desire, of passion and hunger, of something forbidden which made it all the more craved. Every eye in the cantina was on them.

It was just then that Demi became aware of every action in the cantina.

There was something dark and seductive about all the little things here, all the dirty things. That wisp of smoke coming up from that old guy's cigarra. The curves of that twi'lek in the back as she danced to the music, one song down, ten hundred more to go until freedom. The bartender who was about as amiable as a Mandalorian in the morning, slamming down the jumas with a grumble and a sigh, saving the credits one at a time.

Back in the spotlight, the dancers moved lithely, the woman dancer's black dress flowing where she moved as she spun around.

The singer sang:

_Fire brushes your skin._

_Doubts wash away with the sin._

_Fire dance, is what this is._

_Doesn't matter where the steps may go_

_You're here, I'm here_

_Let the fire flow._

Atton glanced over at Demi. Her eyes watched in wonderment and fascination, this spectacle a performance unlike any she had ever seen before.

_She's such an innocent,_ Atton thought.

At which he promptly received a fierce kick in the shin from Demi. _That's going to bruise…_ Too late, he remembered how their thoughts were connected now.

"Come on," Demi said. "Let's go bother a patron about Yashel."

"Hey, wait," Atton said, weaving his way through the crowd in the sidelines behind her.

"Yeah?" She turned to face him. Once again, Atton was struck with the magic her eyes could convey; sparkling, determined, blue and green.

Atton sighed. "Why are we…Force, Demi. Why are we pretending like things are all right between us?"

Demi stared at him, as though frozen to the place she stood. "Aren't they?" But by the look on Atton's face, she was dealt another one of those thoughts… _I'm lying to myself again…_

"No. No, they're not." Atton ran his hand through his hair once, then stuck it back in his pocket, agitated. "Look, back on the ship, I said things I didn't really mean. And I'm sorry, all right? I'm not used to apologizing so I hope you just take my word for it. When I said that thing about us not being friends, ever…That was a bastard thing to say. I didn't mean that. Maybe I meant what I said about the crew, but still. So…yeah. I'm sorry, Demi. But that's not the only thing I'm sorry about."

Demi stood there, waiting. The music from the dancing seemed to dim out now.

"I'm sorry because you don't know something good that can happen when you see it."

Demi narrowed her eyes. "And you're referring to…"

"You know what I'm referring to," Atton said softly. "Look at them," he said, gesturing at the two dancers, who were smiling and grinning at each other, as other people joined them on the floor, and the music played on. They were all lost in their own little world. Demi felt stuck in hers. Demi tried to move away, but Atton touched her shoulder and made her face the dancers. "Look at them! Look how happy they are."

Demi shook her head. "Atton. Now now…"

"Yeah? Well if not now, when?"

"Atton," Demi said desperately, not looking at him. "I can't…"

"Can't what? Can't even believe in the thought that maybe if you and I _were_, that we would be just like them? Or maybe, I don't know. Happy, like them?"

"Don't, Atton," said Demi, shaking her head again. "That's exactly it. You don't know…"

His voice was hard. "What I do know Demi, is that you are amazing. You may deny this all you want, but you take the credit for being the only one who has opened me up the way you have. You are the only one that I've told all those things to of my own free will. You're the only one I don't get mad at for beating me at pazaak. Because you are the only one. And I admit, there are more than a gazillion things that we don't know about each other, but that's just part of it. Getting to know each other. That's all I want. For now. But you…what do you want, Demi? I'll bet you that no one in your entire life has ever asked you that."

Demi turned away.

"You're always off, saving the world, no—the whole _galaxy_ from whatever evil is taking over, and you just do it. You don't need thanks. But I just wonder, if somebody actually asked you what you wanted for a change, what you would say. So what is it?"

He waited. Expectantly.

Demi swallowed, struggling. "Force, Atton. I don't—I don't know. I thought I did. A peaceful, quiet place away from everybody. Maybe I'd learn how to do something like…maybe learn how to paint…or—or something random. Like whistling. I've never learned how to do that. And I'd be where I wouldn't have to worry. About anything, really. And maybe, maybe I still do. Want to find a place like that, I mean."

She looked him straight in the eye. "But we both know that that's not possible. We both know that I'm heading towards a different road. Some…" She gestured off into the distance. "…distant planet out in the galaxy. And we both know that I'm not coming out alive."

Atton looked startled. "So you're afraid to die?"

"No. Not anymore. I don't think…I care anymore. I feel numb. I don't…I just want it to end."

Atton was quiet for a moment, but then he laughed. But it was a strange laugh. "You see, I'm confused. We start off talking about us, and somehow we end up talking about your possible death."

"Force, Atton! Don't you see? It's like…oil and water…and, okay, so I can't think of anything else…but, basically…It's unmixable. It will _never_ work out."

Atton stepped closer. "Okay, so this is another thing. I don't think this is about you being afraid of dying at all."

"Of course it isn't! I _just_ said that I wasn't scared of—"

Atton said his next words deliberately and slowly, and although they were said softly, no other sentence ever seemed to scream in Demi's ears as much as this one.

"I think you're scared about taking a chance."

This took Demi off guard. "What?" she said, quietly.

"You heard me. You are. But look at me, Demi." He stepped back into the light, hands outstretched, palms up. "I'm just this. Me. Atton." He stepped back closer, his hand on the wall behind Demi, looking down at her. He whispered into her ear, "What are you so scared about?"

His voice was resonating inside every fiber of her being. Demi didn't say anything for a moment. Her eyes seemed to be glistening. Then, without warning, she kneed Atton in the groin. Hard.

And ran away.

**::.Outside.::**

Somewhere above the rooftops, a dark figure watched a petite, blonde young woman in brown Jedi robes exit the cantina using the back door, and just slide down the wall beside it, clutching her knees to herself, burying her face in her hands.

The figure in the rooftoops stepped closer to the edge for a better view.

"Poor little Jedi gone astray," this person whispered softly, taunting, teasing. "I wonder who could leave such a pretty thing like that all alone on a night like this?" She chuckled, and crushed her smoking cigarra under her black boot, its remains leaving its mark there forever. "Welcome back to the game, Jaq," she said into the sky. "I hope you can still keep up."

And with that, she jumped down lightly to the next roof, and disappeared.

The wheels were now set in motion. The night had barely begun, and Renee had places to be, people to torture, and promises to keep.

* * *

A/N: You know how there are some people that you totally hate, yet you still love them? Renee's like that, at least for me. You'll see more of her soon. Kudos. :) 


	23. 22: Love or Loathe

**Chapter 22 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Love or Loathe

**V**isas Marr had been thinking about Demi, as she stood by a large window overlooking Coruscant, potted Ithorian plants and flowers filling the room. As always, she wore her red robe and veil that covered her face, a red sash hanging about her waist.

She echoed Demi's words. "'I am not a leader,'" she said, her full lips parting as her smooth voice sounded. "That was what she said that day." The Miraluka sighed. "If only she knew."

Visas thought back to their journey, and how she had been sent by her master to kill Demia Thress. And so they had fought, but just as Visas was sure she was going to be struck down, life taken from her forever, Demi had let her live. Visas had journeyed with them, and Demi had helped her find herself, through the pains and loss of her past, and had helped her find her identity and self-confidence again. Visas had grown stronger, and if Demi had not shown her that mercy and compassion, she would not be standing here now.

_I am not a leader,_ Demi had said. _Or if I am, I'm not sure why, exactly. It must be duty. I lead because I have to, because I can, and somehow, people listen. For some reason, what I say means something, what I do matters._

On the contrary…

"Be quiet, Sith," was what Visas had heard said to her many times before.

Visas sighed. _It's not just the Force, Demia Thress,_ she thought silently. _No matter what, I would have followed you. Thank you for showing me something more. Thank you for being my friend._

Just then, she jumped, startled, at the sound of something clanging nearby that woke her from her stupor. It was the sound of somebody banging and pounding on metal with some kind of tool. Visas strode toward the noise, partly out of curiosity and partly out of annoyance. It seemed to be coming from behind a door.

Visas could distinctly see an outline of a figure who's alignment was blue, the background was grey. She pushed open the door hesitantly. The figure looked up.

"Visas," Bao-Dur said, his voice calm and mellow. He wiped his hands on a towel and grabbed another tool. "You need me for something?"

"No, I was just…Just wondering what the noise was," Visas said. "I'm sorry for the disturbance." And she turned to leave.

"Don't worry about it." Bao-Dur was looking at her, with a confused smile. "You wanted to see what I was working on. Go ahead and take a look." Visas stood rooted to the spot and Bao-Dur laughed lightly. "Don't worry. I don't bite."

Visas took a hesitant step forward. "It wasn't that. I was just…surprised."

Bao-Dur was giving her perplexed looks again, so she said, "I don't understand machines very well. I don't really understand what makes them…run. It's not the Force, it's something different."

"Science," Bao-Dur said simply. "It's not really too hard. You just have to tinker with them here and there to make them work how you want them to. I suppose being half-machine myself is something of an asset."

Visas looked at his arm, then at the machine. The latter was large, grey, and rectangular, and was attached to the wall. Another part of it stuck out like a table, of which Bao-Dur was now working on, gears and levers visible. The part on the wall glowed slightly, and was blue and had lines, diagrams, and drawings all over it. "What is this?"

"This," Bao-Dur said, with a bit of pride, "is a larger version of a map of our galaxy and a few others. I had to incorporate star charts to them. Do you remember the tracking device I had on T3, and how it had stopped working for a while?"

Visas nodded. "Yes. The droid had just disappeared from sight."

"That's correct. Well, a few days ago, he came back into sight again. On Deralia, where he should have been. My guess was that his programming got damaged somehow, but was then repaired."

"Which is how you can locate him now."

"Which is how I can locate him now. And not only that, we can communicate to him if we wish. We'll show up on his end like a small hologram, just like he will to us, and we can talk freely. It should be useful. I know I've wanted to talk with the General for some time now. Perhaps you do too. Now we can." Bao-Dur pointed to a planet on the map, from which a red light currently was blinking. "T3's on Nar Shaddaa right now, which is where I'm guessing the General and the rest of the crew currently are. Either they've received a lead, or just a strong craving for juma and pazaak."

"Maybe they're there against their will," Visas said quietly.

"It's possible," Bao-Dur agreed. "But if so, I'm thinking that Atton wouldn't mind too much. For all we know, he's probably living it up and enjoying himself right this very moment."

**::.Nar Shaddaa.::**

"I'm miserable," Atton informed the bartender at the cantina. "Gimme an ale."

The bartender raised his eyebrows, and slid a glass over to him. "Now, that's no attitude to spend the evening in. We've got new dancing and singing entertainment courtesy of the Republic, lots to drink and eat, and a night to party away. What could possibly be wrong?"

"You want to know?" Atton said. "I'll tell you what. Women." He took a swig of his drink. "I swear to the Force, I don't get them."

Leo came over at that moment. "Atton," he said. "I found a lead on Yashel from one of those musicians over there. Apparently, they travel around a lot, and Yashel provides them with medicine that makes them immune to whatever diseases a planet may be carrying. If we find him, we can heal Brianna. They said he usually hangs out by the swoop racing track."

"You go on ahead," Atton said, waving vaguely toward the exit. "I'm going to do what I planned earlier and get myself drunk."

"Atton," Leo said seriously. "Where's Demi?"

Atton laughed. "Oh, her. I don't know, do I? That little Jedi kneed me right in the gut. I couldn't see straight for about five minutes." He leaned back a little in his stool. "Good luck with finding her, though. It being nighttime in the most dangerous city in the galaxy, and all."

Leo just stared at him for a few moments. "Sometimes, I feel like strangling you, Atton, I really do."

"Don't worry about it," Atton drawled, laying down a credit and ordering a juma. "Renee'll take care of that just fine. See you later, White-Haired Boy."

Leo was obviously torn between the decision to knock some sense into Atton's head, and to go to the swoop track without him. "I'm going to tell T3 to watch after you," he said finally. "Then I'm off to find Demi."

"Well, _go_, already," Atton said, and as Leo left, he shook his head at the bartender. "People these days. I swear, they're all talk and no action."

The bartender decided not to ask, and when T3 finally arrived, three jumas later, Atton was glad for the company.

"There you are!" he exclaimed. "Took you long enough. Come on over here."

T3 chirped uncertainly, not expectating such a welcome, but glided over.

"Women," Atton grumbled into his juma cup. "The only thing worse than them are Jedi, and if you put the two together." He whistled long and low. "I'm swearing them off now," he informed T3. "I promise. They give you nothing but pain and trouble and lonely nights. I mean, they just can't make up their minds. They lead you on, then suddenly they're hitting you, _hard,_ for getting too close. You know what I'm saying?"

T3 beeped in reply, just to humor him.

"And the worst thing," Atton continued, slamming down his drink, "is that nobody here cares. They don't care one bit that some little blonde can torment me so damn much. They really don't."

"I do," said the bartender earnestly, eager to please.

"I wasn't talking to you!" Atton snapped, and turned back to T3. "See? What did I tell you? There's no compassion here. I swear on the Force."

"Stop swearing," said a female voice, which was trilling and light, sliding onto a chair beside Atton's. The newcomer was a twi'lek who appeared to work here. She flipped one of her head-tails as she sat with her back to the bar, leaning on her elbows as she surveyed the cantina. "It's unattractive."

"Yeah, and I'm sure you know the whole definition of the word from personal experience, sugar," Atton said easily. T3 made a disapproving sound.

The twi'lek glanced at Atton once, gave a disgusted sigh, and rose to get up, but Atton took her wrist before she could slip away. "Hey, I'm just kidding," he said. "I had a rough night."

"Whatever," the twi'lek said, but she sat back down. There was a pause, then she said, "Did you just call me 'sugar'?"

Atton raised her eyebrows. "Do you have a name?"

"If I told you, would you use it?"

Atton smiled grimly. "Depends on the name."

The twi'lek sighed. "You're all the same."

This got Atton interested. "Yeah? And who exactly are we talking about?"

"Men."

Now Atton was really interested. He pushed his drink aside and leaned in closer. "I'd like to hear your complaints about my fellow gender. I really would."

"Everything?"

"Lay it on me."

"All right, well…" The twi'lek spun her seat around so she was facing the bar as well. "Let me warn you that it will greatly damage your ego."

"Oh, please. Be blunt. Don't hold back."

The twi'lek took a deep breath. "First off. In my experience, you're all a cocky bunch of arrogant sons of schuttas."

T3 displayed a hologram of ship flying in the air, then crashing down into flames.

"You're so sure that everything you do is right, and you greatly underestimate others. Everything you do is for your own material gain. Sometimes you forget all about us. Do you know how many times that scheming twi'lek has stood me up?" Now she was on a little rant, and she didn't seem to notice that Atton was here anymore. "But _no…_ He was all, 'Lena, please understand, this rotting bunch of gizka entrails or whatever will make us rich because people will be so ready to poison themselves over this special ale!' And I said, 'Would you quit being so focused on the credits, already?' You see, if you make a man choose over credits, a million, gleaming, shiny credits, or their girl, who's been cleaning up the dozens of messes that they leave behind, you can't trust them to make the right decision."

"Oh, hey, now that's not fair," Atton said, finishing his cup of juma in a gulp, digesting this information.

"Yeah, well, you believe what you want to believe, right?" The twi'lek sighed. "Going off with him was one of the worst mistakes I've made in my entire life. And look where I am now. Dancing in a cantina. Again. Filling people's expectations. Because, of course, all my life, people have been telling me this was where I was going to eventually end up." Lena ordered a supernova drink restlessly. "I wish I was more like his sister. I envy her sometimes. And sometimes, I even miss _him._ Him. With his get rich quick schemes and twitchy eyes. But he made me laugh."

This person that she was going on about sounded familiar to Atton, but he couldn't quite pinpoint it down.

"But there's no denying all the empty promises he made. All the promises he made, but couldn't for the life of him keep. He kept saying, 'Lena, I'll do better. This is just the in-between time. Things'll look up.' And I kept listening to him. I don't know why. But, finally, it came to an end."

Lena paid for the drink and sighed again. "Of course, you haven't met him, so you wouldn't understand anything I'm talking about. What about you? Why do you look so eager to drink your problems away?"

Suddenly, Atton didn't feel like talking about it. "Nothing. It's nothing. Just this miserable, overrated thing called life."

Lena watched him for a few moments. "One night, you know."

Atton stared at her. "What?"

"For one night," she said, and her voice lowered, "I can make you forget all of your worries and troubles. For one night, we don't have to both be lonely. What do you say, flyboy?"

Atton's eyes were dark as he 1ooked away, knowing what she meant. T3-M4 looked at the both of them uncertainly. And then Atton made his decision.

"No. No thanks, sister," he said, pushing aside his drink and getting up. His voice sounded strange, even to him. "Thanks for the conversation and maybe I'll see you around, but right now I have a crew I better go catch up with."

He said it so easily, as though it took him no effort at all to turn his back on the way he used to be, being half-alive, living just for that one last drink and one last comfort, always living for the moment.

"Wait," said Lena, standing up as well, feeling slightly ashamed. "Can I come with you? Just to talk? Nobody here…listens. They really don't. I just want to get out of here."

_Join the club,_ Atton thought. What he really wanted was to be alone, but seeing Lena standing there, uncertain and lost, made him sigh and shake his head at himself. "Sure. You can come. Why not?"

Lena smiled and together the two left the cantina.

**::.Outside.::**

"The Republic are a disruption of our life!" somebody was saying as Demi walked back to the _Ebon Hawk_. "Enforcing new codes and rules, and expecting us to follow them. Who do they think they are?"

"Protectors. They're searching for that one lady, the killer, and they want to put her behind a force cage."

The first one harrumphed. "That doesn't mean they have to go around putting force cages around our own life! Besides, how much harm can one girl do?"

Demi stuck her hands in her pockets and made her way to the landing pad of the _Ebon Hawk_, enjoying the feel of wind running through her hair, her robe billowing out behind her, and the _swooshing_ sound of the speeders above her. She sort of understood why Mira had liked it here, at least the excitement of it. It had been too much, the first time she was here, but she had since learned to like this place. Demi sighed, and headed over to a railing, and looked down below. The city was so big, and she had barely explored any of it. It was a long fall down.

"Demi!"

Demi looked back up, surprised, to see her brother. "Hey, Leo," Demi said, smiling numbly.

"Where've you been?" Leo came over to the railing with her, looking concerned.

Demi sighed. "Just out walking, you know."

"It's not safe, Demi. Especially not with—"

"I know, I know." Demi pushed herself away from the railing, and Leo followed, smiling a bit.

"Sorry. I'm nagging, aren't I?"

"That's what older brothers are supposed to do." Demi then patted her empty pockets. "We left our weapons back at the cantina."

"Let's go, then. And after that, let's go find Atton if he hasn't made a complete fool of himself already, then go to the swoop track and try to find Yashel."

Demi nodded vaguely. "All right," she said, so they started to make their way back.

Leo cocked an eyebrow at her. "Are you okay? You look half dead."

Demi rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Leo."

"No, I mean, just like you're daydreaming. Not very sure of where you are. And not really caring."

Demi sighed loudly. "I'm fine, but Brianna's not. We have to hurry."

"Sounds good to me," Leo said, and left it at that. But he couldn't help glancing sideways at her, and her blue-green eyes that were distant and looked…sad. _When will she ever start trusting me enough to tell her what's on her mind?_ he wondered. _Or does she keep everything inside, no matter what?_

"When I was talking to Atton earlier," Leo said slowly, "he said he was just the man to get us inside the Shift in Nausuma, because he has been Dark Side before. What's that about?"

Demi looked at him, stopping in her tracks. "It's not…It's not my business to tell you. I'm sorry, Leo. But try to trust him. I mean, I do. I really do. And you should too."

Leo nodded slowly, and they continued walking.

They got their weapons from the anything-but-amiable Gamorrean bouncer, but once inside the cantina, Atton was nowhere to be found, and they almost tripped over T3 who was leaving.

T3, with a _beep_ and _dwoot_ said that Atton had left the cantina. That was all he knew. Demi and Leo exchanged a look, and T3 agreed to head back to the ship. If Demi didn't know better, it was almost as though he was eager to leave.

"All right," Demi said, tucking the ornamental chopsticks back in her hair, strapping back on her rocket launchers, and holding her double-bladed force pike firmly. "Where to?"

"This way," Leo said, and they strode down the street, towards Borna Lys' Swoop Den.

Demi smiled faintly, remembering her last visit here and how she had helped Borna Lys take control of the business from the cheating Lupo Shar. "I wonder how her business is doing."

And then, Demi paused in her tracks, a look of shock on her face. Leo had kept walking, but stopped as she did, and came back. "What's wrong?"

Demi just stood there, mouth slightly open, then she blinked and closed it, and stood there awkwardly. She felt like she had just received a punch in her stomach. Or several ones at the same time, one blow after another. _Force, I'm an idiot,_ she thought.

"I don't believe this," Leo muttered softly. "_Lena?_"

At this, Atton and Lena looked up at them, and drew apart from a light kiss Lena had placed on his lips. Now, Atton drew back, no expression of his face, not saying anything.

"White-Haired Human," Lena said in acknowledgement to Leo.

Atton didn't even ask how they knew each other. He was just looking at Demi, who was still standing there as though paralyzed. Then she met Atton's eyes and lowered them, before turning away and disappearing into the swoop den.

"How is Griff?" Lena continued.

At this, Atton jolted. "Griff?" he said outloud. "I knew Griff."

Lena turned to him. "You did? Why didn't you say anything?"

"He's that twi'lek you kept going on about, isn't he?" Atton laid his forehead against the dark alley's wall. "I can't believe I…Oh, perfect."

"I haven't heard from Griff in a long time, Lena." Leo watched Atton. "I don't know what's happening to you, Atton, or if you even want to be a part our mission. I don't know if you care about what's happening to Brianna, but I do know that we did not come to Nar Shaddaa for this."

"It's not his fault," Lena said. "I didn't mean to…make this into a big thing. I was just saying thank you."

"Looks more like you were doing than saying."

"Hey, watch it," Atton intervened.

Leo turned his blue and green eyes to him, and Atton once again felt that jolt, as though it was Demi's eyes, not her brother's, that were boring into him right now. "If you still want to help us, then I suggest you get your weapons from the cantina and come join us at the swoop den. It's your choice, Atton. Good-bye, Lena."

And Leo went after Demi.

Then it was just Atton and Lena. Atton sighed and ran a hand through his hair, and made to leave. "Look, I'm sorry. It's been great, but I'm a total…And I just…I gotta go. I gotta—" He broke off, smiled apologetically, and left.

Lena watched him disappear and stood there in an alley all by herself. "Of course," Lena said quietly, sadly.

And then, a shadow from behind her jumped down from the rooftops and clamped a hand over her mouth. Lena squirmed and squealed, but the figure held her steady.

"Hey, sweetie," said her captive, and Lena was surprised to hear it was a female voice. This must be the culprit who everyone was looking for. Lena tried to see what she looked like, but this person wouldn't let her. Roughly, Lena was dragged back into the darkness of the alley. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to go into strange, dark streets with strangers?"

The hand was removed, and Lena demanded, "Who are you?"

Renee chuckled darkly. "That's for me to know. Now I suggest you tell me everything you've learned about that brown-haired son of a schutta you were so eagerly exchanging saliva with." Renee shook her roughly, but Lena didn't say anything. Renee sighed, almost regretfully, and before Lena could scream and attract attention, she injected a needle into Lena's leg.

"Sorry, sweetums," Renee said softly as Lena slumped to the floor. "But you're coming with me. You're lucky though. The boss'll go much easier on you than I ever will."

Two figures in black appeared behind Renee, and carried Lena's body back onto the rooftops with them. Renee smirked out into the night, before climbing back up swiftly, passing them. The moonlight fell gracefully onto the uniforms of the two figures, and a small V with two waves following it as 'i's were clearly visible.

**::.Borna Lys' Swoop Den.::**

Music was playing, a jaunty, silly tune, inside the swoop den. Demi closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, before stepping further in. People were placing bets on swoop racers, swoop racers were suiting up, and engineers brandished hydrospanners. The place was packed.

"Hello, there!" a female twi'lek in plain clothes said cheerfully. "Welcome to—" She paused, seeing who it was. "It's you! The—the Remy or Fanny or Danny, or something! The one who brought this business into my hands, away from the manipulative Lupo Shar's!"

Demi braved a smile, but she felt anything but brave or happy. "I'm Demi, yes. How are you?"

Borna laughed. "Oh, I'm having the time of my life! People come and go, people are having fun, I'm making an honest living, nothing could be better."

"That's great," Demi said, and meaning it.

"Yeah, well, it's all thanks to you. If you hadn't helped with the droid…Well, do you need anything? If you want to swoop race, you can do it for free."

"Thanks, but I was wondering if you knew somebody named Yashel? We heard he comes around here a lot, and we need his help."

Borna frowned a bit. "He is one of our biggest betters, yes. He even has his own box high up there so he can survey the race at an advantage. However, he gets so into the race, nobody can talk to him unless you grab his attention somehow."

"Such as?"

"Well, winning one of the races. He loves swoop racers; to him they're like celebrities, and they rather are. If you can top the records, I'm sure Yashel wouldn't mind seeing you."

"That sounds like a job for me," Leo said behind Demi.

Borna checked out his silver swoop racing uniform. "Yes, indeed. You can sign up over at that register there. I wish you the best of luck on the race. Enjoy yourselves tonight. And thanks again, Demi. I owe most of this to you."

And Borna went away, busy managing the rest of the affairs.

Leo put a hand on Demi's shoulder, Atton on his mind. "Demi…"

Demi shrugged him off. "It's no big deal, Leo. I'm fine." She turned to him and smiled a bit. "Go!" she said, pushing him towards the register. "Go have fun, and beat the pants off the other racers. Do it for Brianna. Do it for you."

Leo nodded, and gave a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am." More quietly he added, "Take care."

Demi didn't reply, and headed outside to the balcony, to watch the current racers at the starting line, but she wasn't really watching them. She started tearing up a piece of paper she had found in her pocket, just to let her hands be doing something.

Atton came up behind her and joined her at the railing, as each small, white piece floated down to the stadium below like confetti blowing in the wind. "So. Any racers get themselves into wrecks yet?" he asked, in what was supposed to be a light and easy tone.

Demi looked up and out at the track. "Not yet." She smiled faintly and pointed at a figure in silver who was kneeling down by a swoop bike, gesturing outward for somebody to hand him a hydrospanner. "There's Leo."

Atton glanced down and exhaled. "He looks like he knows what he's doing."

Demi nodded, proud of her brother. "Yeah," she said quietly. "He does."

Fair tendrils of her hair were blowing softly in the night breeze, and she brushed some of them away carelessly. The small earrings in her ear glinted as bright as her eyes and the stars in the sky. Two hands were folded over the railing, deceivingly delicate, and a ghost of a smile played on her lips.

It hurt to look at her. Atton turned away, and Demi adjusted slightly as well. It was an uncomfortable silence, not the kind they used to share aboard the Ebon Hawk, when Atton was in the pilot's seat and Demi was in the co-pilot's chair beside him. Demi wondered if they would ever get that friendship back.

"I'm sorry," Demi said suddenly.

Atton looked at her. "Yeah? What for?"

"Well, kneeing you. It was…It was impulsive. It was the only thing I could…And you were…And I didn't…" She stopped abruptly. This was dangerous territory. "You know what I mean," she mumbled, as a finish.

Atton sighed and pushed away from the railing, restless. "I will say one thing. You sure know how to leave with a bang."

Demi almost smiled at this. "I really am sorry though."

Atton looked at her. She was trying to tell him something else. He could see it in her eyes. But why couldn't she just come out and say what she meant to say? No more of these cryptic games. Atton inhaled sharply. "Let's not exchange apologies, okay? Things happen, things get brought up that shouldn't, and we do stupid things thinking that the other might actually—" He stopped abruptly as well. "But we're wrong. And that's the way things play out."

Demi didn't say anything for a while. "So who was she?"

"Who? Renee?"

Demi shook her head. "No. Well, yes. But also, in the alley…"

Atton glanced sideways at her. "Lena. Her name was Lena."

"Ah."

Another pause.

"You sure make friends fast, Mr. Rand," Demi muttered softly.

"Only when the situation calls for them."

Demi furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but decided to let it drop.

"I'm going to go inside," Demi said, not looking at him, and made a move to re-enter the swoop den.

"Why?" Atton demanded.

"Because it's cold." That was a lie. Her Jedi robes kept her warm enough.

"No, not that. Why…" He broke off, and ran a hand through his hair.

Demi stared at him evenly. "Maybe we just shouldn't talk to one another if we can't even figure out our sentences."

"Why is it so hard for you?"

"What are you talking about?" Demi exclaimed, laughing a bit in disbelief. "What exactly, is so hard for me?"

"Giving in. Doing what you actually want for once in your life."

"And what do you think I want?"

Atton stared at her for a moment. She sure had a way of turning the tide. "I don't know. But I do know that it isn't this."

"This _is_ what I want to do," Demi said. "I don't have anything else. And there's nobody else to—"

"Bullshit," Atton snapped, and for a moment, Demi was taken aback. "Doing what you want and doing what others tell you you have to are entirely different things, and you get them mixed up more than anybody that I know."

Demi opened her mouth to speak, but Atton put up a hand to stop her. "Look," he said, his voice hard. "You already had your rant session, something about a self-sacrificing die-fest, but now it's my turn. You don't _have_ to do this, unlike what you think. Revan, Elaine, whoever she is, she has her own friends who can—"

"I don't have a choice!" Demi yelled. Swoop fans were starting to stare at them, and some started to edge away and to the bleachers below, but Demi and Atton barely even noticed. "We've been through this before, Atton! This is my role to play—"

"Who said? Did somebody _assign_ this to you? 'Oh, here, save the galaxy. Risk your life for a bunch of thankless people who don't even—'"

"You said it yourself, I don't need thanks. And yes, somebody did assign this to me. But even if they hadn't, I've heard things. I'm somebody who can make this right. I don't know why. I know this is where I'm supposed to go. And even if it wasn't, I can't just turn my back."

"Why?" Atton demanded raising his voice another notch.

"Because this is what I do!" Demi shouted. "And I didn't ask you to come after me! In fact, if we weren't stuck here, I'd try to do something about it." Her voice lowered and her eyes blazed. "Force, Atton. If I'm not doing this, what am I supposed to do? Wander the galaxy aimlessly? I've been there, done that. I need purpose, Atton. I need it like I've never wanted anything else. And I don't care if I die. But I don't want you to, either."

"I'm right there with you, but this is supposed to be heroic? 'I die, you can't, too bad?' I'm supposed to bow down to that and worship you like you're some kind of saint?"

"No," Demi said, staring at him in disbelief. "No. That's not it at all."

"Then what is? Because maybe you don't care if you die, but others will. And—and I will. And I still don't see how dying will help Revan. I seem to have missed that dream you keep on going on about."

Demi just shook her head again, unable to think of anything else to say.

"You know," Atton said quietly. "When we first started this, I wasn't even planning on bringing this up. Death and saving the galaxy weren't even remotely in the plan."

"Funny how that works out," Demi muttered. _Is this the Force?Is it the wound in the Force I supposedly am that is making those two words follow me?_ she wondered. _Or is it just me?_

"I want to ask you something."

"Me saying no hasn't stopped you before, has it?"

Atton picked his words carefully. "When you saw me and Lena did you—?"

Demi looked away. "You're putting me on the spot."

"It's a simple question."

"No, it's not. I used to think things were simple. If not easy, simple. I always used to think I would be immune to things, never having to make any major choices." She looked up. "I was wrong."

"So, nothing. Alright, then." Atton stuck his hands in his pockets, faking nonchalance and doing it badly.

"I never answered the question."

"Then let me rephrase it." Atton swallowed. "Was there jealousy?"

Demi looked at him dead-on. "Was it payback?"

Atton shook his head. "Maybe you'd like to think that, Dem, but no. I was lonely, she was lonely, I was there, she was there. We were just talking and then all of a sudden she thanked me, and I didn't have any idea why. And then—"

"Okay," Demi said, nodding. "Okay."

"That's all? 'Okay?'"

_You don't need words for everything, Atton,_ she said to him through their bond.

_Well, they would help an incredible lot. You keep saying_ I'm _confusing, but I don't think I'm the only one._

_I'm sorry,_ Demi said, and walked through the door. _I have to go._

Atton watched her go. Then, frustration and fury in his eyes, he kicked at a nearby plasteel container so that it fell to its side and rolled away, blocking the door and barring entrance after her.

::.**Coruscant, a few days ago**.:: 

Bastila strode down the streets of Coruscant, a briskness in her pace. Canderous was beside her, glancing around the city with indifference.

"Make a right here," he muttered.

"I know where the healing center is," Bastila said sharply. She had not forgotten their last argument. "And I don't need a chaperone. Besides, apparently, I'm not a friend, so why are you bothering to come at all?"

"Still hung up about that conversation?" Canderous replied roughly. "Look, don't get all sentimental about this, but I know what it's like to lose a comrade."

Bastila laughed. "I'd hardly call my mother and I comrades."

"Maybe not, but you are bound by the same blood. Of the same clan. And I don't want you heading off alone and wallowing in self-pity. It's not good for you, it's a colossal waste of time, and it's the last thing the long and gone would want."

"Don't talk about her like she's already dead," Bastila said sharply.

"That's not the only reason I'm coming along," Canderous said. "I'm catching a shuttle. I'm leaving, to go back to where I belong, to Dxun. I've been away from my people long enough."

Bastila stopped walking. "What?" she breathed.

Canderous nodded, and in the pack slung over his shoulder, Bastila could see the helmet of Mandalore stashed inside, until Canderous zipped it up fully. She could imagine him putting the hlemet on, his gray hair and stern jaw disappearing from view, to be replaced with a thing of metal. The sun of wherever he would be would reflect off of it, and he would seem taller, much taller, than those around them.

"That's who I am, Princess," he said now. "Learn it and know it."

Bastila slowly stepped back from him. "You're leaving. Now?"

"That's right." His voice sounded grim.

"You're not saying goodbye to the others?" Bastila said, her voice rising. "I don't believe this! First Elaine, then T3, then you."

"Look, I appreciate the concern, but I'm done with goodbyes. Besides, what's the point of them, when we always seem to cross paths again? We all split up after Revan, and look at us now."

"And look at you now," Bastila said. "You could have given me some type of warning."

"You've just received it." Canderous sighed. "I just figured you'd like to know what had happened to all the noise and disruptions I always bring with me. We don't want you worrying your pretty head, wondering that something was missing, just not quite sure what it was. Because, Force forbid, I'd be distracting you from your Jedi duties."

"Sith spit, Canderous!" Bastila exclaimed. "What do you take me for?"

Canderous gazed at her blankly, and Bastila looked away. It felt like he was already wearing the helmet, his face and who he really was hidden from her view. She couldn't talk to him like this.

"Just go," she said softly. "Just go."

Silently, Canderous laid a hand on her shoulder. Bastila was forced to look up. Her blueish-greyish eyes were deep and clear, intelligent and proud, and somehow, now, they looked somewhat defeated…and sad. "You'll get by," Canderous said, and let his hand drop. He then turned away, and headed off toward the shuttles. "Try not to miss me too much, Princess."

Bastila watched him walk away, into the crowds, and into the distance. But there was one last glint of sunlight that touched him and set him off from the rest of the people, a last bright spot before a flying shuttle flew above them and blocked out the sun.

**::.Later.::**

Bastila sat in the darkness of her room, remembering her mother's labored breathing, and the way she had clutched Bastila's hand as though she would never let go.

"Took you long enough to get here," was the first thing she had said, but she was smiling, although it looked painful to do so. "Thank you for not abandoning me, after all I've put you through," she had whispered. "And I know it's been quite a lot. I know you will not abandon others." She tightened her grip. "Will you? Promise me this, Bastila."

"Of course not, Mother," Bastila had said, but she was remembering Elaine as she did so. "Of course not."

"You've made me proud," Helena continued. "I know I…I know I never really told you this before. And maybe…in the end, these treatments aren't enough. And maybe, in the end, I have not been the best mother I could have been to you. But in the end, I am glad that you are my daughter, and that I am your mother."

Bastila stayed by her side until her mother's breathing ceased, and the hand closed around her own withered and faded away into the blankets.

Bastila had lost two people in one day. And now, she made a resolution. She was going after Elaine, wherever she was. She did not want to stay behind, not while it was clear that everybody else was moving on.

_I'm coming, Elaine,_ Bastila thought, as she made her way outside, her heart heavy. _Wherever you are, in whatever state you are in, I'm coming._ And the sunlight shone down upon her, even as the shadows grew steadily longer…

* * *

A/N: I have rewritten that scene with Demi and Atton so many times (the first draft of it—that I have not shown, not even here—was actually rather comic), but I'm still not completely happy with it. However, I'm just going to let it rest for now. Even more important to me is the moving along of this story. I'd also like to take this chance to thank the people who have left reviews. They honestly mean a lot to me and it's always good to hear what you think, even if they're just to bang your head on the keyboard in frustration. As always, thanks to Jiara Anatalis for the beta. Anyway, ttyl. 


	24. 23: Monster

**Chapter 23 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Monster

**T**he tower cell was dark now, and silent. Elaine sat there with her wrists chained above her, the metal biting into her skin. She wasn't just stuck here, but in the prison of her own mind as well. The vision, Morgana, or whoever she was, had conjured up a small window, waving her hand over the mysterious panel, and the strange writings had floated up in colors of gold and green. Now, a ray of moonlight fell across Elaine's face, as she sat there, downcast, the violet in her eyes not visible. Ever part of her felt sore, cold, and hurt, especially inside.

Every time she closed her eyes, memories of Morgana's past life flashed by. Elaine could still see her, with her honey-colored hair, made golden by the lights upon it, a notebook splayed on the bar before her, containing a sketch of an R200 Ion Jet Engine. She and her best friend, a twi'lek named Shen Villea, had been playing a game. Morgana had been very reluctant at first.

"Oh, come on Morgana," insisted Shen.

Morgana sighed loudly. "_Shen…_I'm not playing that stupid game."

"Morgana, lay off the books of engines and healing guides for once. There are so many interesting looking people coming in here. You're missing out. You do remember the rules, don't you? A new prospect comes in, and you can either say, 'yes,' to 'marrying' them, or 'no.' But you can only say no twice, the third time, you're stuck with that person."

"Even if they have three eyes and five horns?" Morgana inquired.

"Even if." Then Shen sniffed, as though insulted. "Hey! I have a great-uncle, twice removed, who looks like that."

"Really?"

"Yes. Although maybe he only has four horns, but I think, for all it counts, that he has five, 'cause he always acts like he has something up his—"

"Okay, okay, I'm in," Morgana said, dropping her spoon in the bowl so it made a clanging sound against the glass.

The first two were immediately turned down, and the two friends were laughing so hard that the bartender was shooting them dirty looks.

"So, a 'no,' then?" Shen said cheerfully. She put on a talk-show contestant voice. "Who is good enough for our Morgana? Who can keep up with her busy schedule and expectations? Who knows about ships and can carry an actual conversation? Who is good-looking, young, and charming? Who is—"

"Keep it down," Morgana muttered, flushing a bit, looking down at her Deneelian fizz-pudding, but she was grinning. "People are staring. I can't believe I'm actually playing this game."

Shen slapped her palm against the counter. "Who will this lucky third be? Is the third time really the charm? Remember, you will be stuck with this next person for all eternity. You must have great faith in the cosmos, to leave your fate dangling out like this. You may be sorry that you turned down the insect-eating, funky-hat wearing alien in the end. Compared to whoever walks through this door next, he could be a dream."

Morgana snorted indelicately. "I highly doubt that. Besides, it's just a game, Shen. It's not like I'm actually going to marry the next person that walks through that door."

And of course, Carth had walked in.

Elaine had been torn between laughing and crying. She was forced to watch a montage of fast moving pictures of the life they had had together, awkward bumpings into each other in the streets at first, jealousy and betrayal they had shared, of them teasing each other and laughing…Carth had come back from a mission once, lonely and tired, and Morgana was waiting there for him. But she wasn't alone. Her belly was round and protruding, a son to be named Dustil, Elaine knew, was going to be born soon. She saw Carth's eyes, wide and joyful and loving, for Morgana and this new miracle, and watched him wrap his arms around her. Elaine felt torn between all over, seeing this. She knew that around this time, Ian had been born too.

She watched as Morgana ran through the rubble and fire and ruins, as Telos was being destroyed. Morgana was breathing hard, looking desperately around for an escape route, looking for Carth, looking for Dustil.

Elaine watched as Carth found her, lying dead, her skull bleeding, her body crushed beneath a collapsed building. And Elaine cried with him.

And then she saw Malak, high above the planet, looking down, so sure of where he stood. Not caring of the innocents he had killed, of the lives he had ruined, of the blood he had shed.

The visions were then stopped, and she was back in the tower, although the memories still lingered nearby.

It wasn't just Morgana that came to her, it wasn't just Morgana who came to feed her bread and water. No. When Carth came to her, Elaine couldn't believe it. But it wasn't him…She was certain. The things he had said…Who was doing this that could be so cruel? _How_ were they doing this? Jaq also came to her, a monster in the shadows, as did Renee. Renee and Jaq had been Darth Revan's favorites long before. Renee did not hide how disappointed she was in Elaine. She spoke to her of glory and victories and triumphs past, and Elaine briefly felt Revan's presence in her mind, hearing this. She remembered the strategies she would use, the way she saw the galaxy behind her blood-colored eyes. She didn't want to feel or remember this again. But she had had no choice.

None of them had hurt her, not physically, but words could hurt more, despite what the rhyme of sticks and bones had said.

And in the end, Darth Revan came to her.

Revan had come into the room, softly and swiftly, and waved a hand over the panel. Their surroundings had changed into a bare and deserted wasteland, of flat gray rock and green-grayish sky. Wind swirled around the both of them, and Revan looked upon Elaine with a mocking smile.

It was like looking upon a broken mirror. They stared upon each other, Revan with her gleaming, red eyes and Elaine with her violet ones. Their dark hair blew around in the breeze that made black dust swirl around their feet. And Revan spoke words to her, her beautiful lips perfect while Elaine's were chapped and dry after so many days. Darth Revan spoke of betrayal and power and false hope and the galaxy, of faces and dreams and loss and pain and war and love…Feelings and shapes she formed with just her words, and Elaine was filled with shame for who she had been, and whatever they were forcing her to become, because as she laid there, chained and tired, Revan was the one who seemed more powerful, more confident, more knowing.

And Elaine wanted to prove her wrong.

But Renee and Jaq had not given her her water, so her tongue was dry and parched, words unable to come forth and sound as meaningful as Revan's. And so, Elaine was forced to listen to every word, listen to Revan's philosophies, feel herself be broken just like she had broken so many others long before…Jaq, Malak, Renee…

And then it was over, and Elaine was back in the tower, alone in the dark.

_Let it end,_ she thought, closing her eyes. _Please, let it end._

**::.Borna Lys' Swoop Track.::**

Leo keyed the ignition and felt the engine rev up beneath him, felt the crowd on the sidelines watch in anticipation. Most of them were hoping for a wreck, a vigorous crash off the track, anything, so long as it entertained them. He knew this, but right now, it was just him and the landspeeder, and this was where he belonged.

The record to beat was 43:22.

Leo chuckled and dropped the visor on his helmet over his blue and green eyes. "Let's give them something to talk about, what do you say?"

The speeder he was going to fly was silver, and flames lit up at the tail of it, ready to leave a trail of smoke behind him. This was going to be fun.

The lights flashed in front of his eyes. Red. Yellow. Go!

Leo was off. He could hear a commentator somewhere in the stands, but drowned all the voices down. This was the one time he felt in control, with the speeder vibrating beneath him, flying a few meters off the ground, the wind rushing past.

He liked having the whole track to himself, not having to worry about son-of-a-bantha racers who rammed into him on the sides intentionally, wanting him out of the race. The track was under the night air, with many turns and twists, as well as junk heaps right out in the middle of the track. The flaps tilted up as he went with the flow of the swoop bike, turning a corner, the speed slowly creeping up higher and higher, accelerating faster…Excitement pumped in his veins.

He was remembering the hundreds of times he had raced in the track at Taris. Remembering Brianna, her voice, her inner and outer strength, and then her again, lying cold and in a coma back on the _Ebon Hawk._ Remembering his sister, a general of the Mandalorian Wars, a war he had stayed out of, even as he saw planets being beaten to the ground. Remembering himself, being pulled into the lies and deceit that just barely held Vincentii together. Remembering Carth, who had eventually found him, wandering Telos aimlessly, with no purpose.

_Coward._ The words flamed up in front of him, and he increased his speed, his hands firm on the handles.

The black track flashed underneath him, and Leo narrowly avoided a rock right out in the middle of it. Then came something new. Two tunnels, one high and one low, coming up to meet him.

Leo whooped as he made the aircraft do a few spiralling flips into the top one. He zoomed through the tunnels, lights flashing past. Show offy, maybe, but it had been so long since he had been behind the wheel. It was good to be back. The two tunnels eventually re-joined, and he had to duck between pillars and jump over ramps to get to his destination.

He felt the pull as he went up one last uphill, and then really pushed the pedal as the finish line came up to meet him, the crowds roaring in the stands, the engine sounding in his ears.

Leo came to a stop, and slowly exhaled, as the night quieted down. When he jumped out of the swoop bike, unbuckling his helmet, Borna Lys came up to him.

"Wonderful job, Leo Thress!" she exclaimed.

Leo smiled, and ran a hand through his hair. "How'd I do?"

Borna grinned wider. "26:10."

"Well." Leo smiled, abashed. "Guess that means I qualify to speak to Yashel?"

"That's right. Take this elevator card, and use it. Thank you, Leo. I hope you enjoyed the track. You'll keep the racers here busy for a while, trying to beat your newly set record."

Leo headed off, and climbed back up to the platform, taking the steps three at a time.

**::.Borna Lys' Swoop Den.::**

Demi tossed and turned in her corner, fists clenched, legs cramping up, restlessly muttering in her sleep, her eyelids flickering.

_Scared?_

_Leave me alone!_ Demi screamed.

_What are you so afraid of? Him knowing you, him truly seeing you? What you were? What you might be again?_

_Shut up!_

_You were so empty, closed off. Trying to forget. I saw you, you know. Felt you. You barely even existed. Compared to that, Kavar was nothing._

Demi opened her eyes, and found herself looking into a mirror.

Demi smiled back at her, angelically, however there was a devil behind her tongue. Her eyes glinted sharply.

_I know what your worst fear is, Demi. You won't admit it, not to yourself. But I know the truth._

_You don't know me._

The person in the mirror just shook her head. _Oh, Demi. Demi, Demi, Demi. You turn me away, just like that? I was with you, through the pain and the loss, the Force you couldn't bear to give away and couldn't bear to keep. I was there through your moments of victory and weakness. And you still fear me, refuse to trust me. Oh, Demi. When will you learn?_

Demi locked eyes with herself, and her eyes turned red; blood, blood red. _I am you._

_No!_ Demi's fist flew forward, and the glass shattered, splitting the glass shards into a million pieces. But the vision's laughter echoed on.

Demi woke up, shuddering, to the sound of cheers coming from far below. Backs were turned on her, watching the race from the doorway. She hesitantly got up, felt weak on her feet. She half expected her knuckles to be red, scraped, and bleeding from hitting the glass. It had felt so real. It still felt real.

She wasn't sure where she was going as she exited the swoop den; all she knew was that she was walking, and as long as she was doing something, she was fine.

And then Atton came up behind her, his eyes shrewd and wild.

"What," he managed to say, "was that about?

"What was what about?" Demi mumbled, closing her eyes and rubbing them hard. She felt hardly awake.

"That dream," Atton said.

Demi stared at him. "What?"

"I saw it," he said. "I saw everything. The…the mirror, and you, and the words in your head…"

"No," Demi said softly, looking horrified. "You didn't."

"I did," Atton said, his voice hard. "I was walking, I don't know where the hell I was going, and then all these visions hit me hard, one after the other. It's like my head seized up, and I didn't have any control over what I was thinking."

"Our bond," Demi said, her eyes wide. "It's getting stronger."

"So, tell me again if that's a good thing or not."

Demi walked over to the railing and looked down, unbelieving. "I don't…I don't know. I didn't…My bond with Kreia wasn't like this at all."

"I need answers, Demi," Atton said. "Where are these dreams coming from? How much, exactly, are our thoughts connected? And—And…Kavar!" he sputtered the last word out. "Why was his name in your dream?"

Demi closed her eyes. "It's not…It's not important. And I don't…I told you, I don't _know!_"

Atton watched her, and her hands that were quivering uncontrollably, and then she pushed off the railing and turned away, unable to stand anything. "I'm sorry," Atton said finally. "It's just…That dream…I had no idea you hated yourself that much."

Demi shook her head, not sure what to say. _Neither did I? Of course I did? Don't you?_

"I don't," Atton said, in answer to her last question, hearing her thoughts. "You drive me mad sometimes, and that's the truth, but I—I couldn't…I can't…hate you."

Demi turned back to him. "Thank you, Atton," she said quietly, and her blue and green eyes showed only pain. "Thank you."

In two strides, Atton crossed over to her and wrapped two arms around her, and she let him, head against his chest, and let her eyes close. This was just like Coruscant, but that felt so long ago.

_I'm sorry,_ she said to him, not sure what it was that she exactly was sorry for, just knowing that she was. Then she drew back and smiled sadly up at him. _But let's try not to be sorry all the time anymore, okay?_

Atton then looked up, over her shoulder, and what he saw made his heart stop.

"Renee," he said aloud, and let Demi go, pushing her behind him protectively.

"Same old Jaq," said a teasing voice in front of them.

It was a beautiful woman with flashing emerald eyes and long, curly brown hair. She wore a purple tank top, tight blank pants, and a black belt that displayed a variety of weapons. Her voice was taunting and tempting, and she was laughing. Demi remembered the poster the Republic officers had shown them, but now that Renee was here, really here, alive and dangerous, making her first appearance, the reality of it hit her harder.

Leaning by her elbows on the railing behind her, Renee continued, "Still the same old workaholic." She chuckled, but it wasn't a friendly chuckle at all. "This is one of the rare methods you used to use, do you remember? Pity the Jedi, pity and understand them until they trusted you enough to fully give themselves up to you, and then…you broke them. I almost became one of them and didn't even realize it." She cocked her head sideways at him thoughtfully. "Well. It's been too long."

"Renee." Atton's voice was dark. Demi couldn't read his expression. His eyes were clouded. "Sure. It's been…long."

"That's right." Renee pushed off the railing and came closer to him, circling around, black boots treading lightly. "I must say, I find it astonishing that you remember my name at all, judging by how you just up and left your duty." Her hands fingered his Jedi robe. "And now, look at you, Jaq. All dolled up." She looked at him in disgust. "You've become one of them."

"The name is Atton," he said dangerously.

"Oh, I forgot how much you loved your aliases. Possibly more than you loved me, Revan, and all that we stood for combined together. You were always a great actor, you know." She looked behind him and saw Demi, who returned her gaze evenly. "And I'm guessing that's really not one of your targets."

"You'd be right."

"Hmph." Her emerald eyes flared. "Revan would be ashamed of you."

"Hate to burst your bubble, Ren, but she's moved on too. She got smart. While you're still stuck back in the day."

"I'm the one who's smart! You're the ones who are fools, tools to the Jedi." She shoved him roughly, and stepped back. Although she was a few inches shorter than Atton, while Demi barely passed his shoulder, right now, she seemed taller and above them all. "You _disgust_ me."

Just then, soldiers with rifles came around the bend. "There she is!" they yelled and ran towards them.

"Talk to you later, loverboy," Renee said to Atton, pulling him close and kissing him fiercely right on the lips. Her taste set an inner fire in Atton's mind, reawakening past memories fought down for so many years. "I'll get Jaq back if I have to kill every person on this damn planet!"

And she jumped onto a ladder on the side of the nearest building, and disappeared above the rooftops, then pulled the ladder up with her so the soldiers couldn't follow.

But her presence stayed.

The soldiers sent a squad after her, and another to surround the building.

"They're not going to catch her like that," Atton said quietly.

"Should we go after her?" Demi asked Atton. She had so many questions right now, her brain ticking like clockwork, wanting to know so badly about whatever part of his life Atton had kept hidden from her. Her mind kept replaying Renee kissing Atton, over and over again, and something furious burned inside of her. _Stop it!_ she yelled to her brain.

Atton shook his head. "No. She'll find us."

They resumed walking down the street.

"How do you feel?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, I feel fine," Atton said forcefully, kicking a metal trash bin out of his way. It clattered down the street loudly and crashed into a wall. "Never been better, actually, how 'bout you?"

"I'm guessing you two have a history together."

Atton laughed hollowly. "Gee, was it that obvious?"

Demi bit her lip. "Just trying to help."

He took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry, all right? Renee…she just brings back a load of memories that I'd rather forget."

Just then, they heard a soldier running up behind them.

"You, sir," the soldier said. "We're going to need you to come into questioning. Judging by the way the culprit was…was…"

"Seducing him?" Demi suggested. "Making an impression? Fantasizing him? Marking him as hers?"

The soldier blinked at her. "Erm…That—that's one way of putting it. I was just going to say kissing, but…" He shook his head. "Anyway, it is apparent that you two have a connection together, that you both know each other. You're going to need to come in for questioning."

Atton sighed. "When? Now?"

"As soon as possible. We need to know everything we can about Renee. We have no last name on her, and almost no background. But you seem to know her."

"All too well," Atton said darkly.

"And what you know would be an incredible asset to us."

Atton looked away, before replying. "Yeah. Sure. I'll do your little interrogation."

"Our offices are by the docks," the soldier said. "Be there, and the Republic will be in your debt."

And he left.

"Did you hear that?" Atton said. "They'll 'be in my debt.' Maybe that means they'll take off the cloak on this planet and actually let us leave after I tell them whatever they want to know."

"No," said Demi, shaking her head. "They want us to help spring a trap for Renee. And you'll be the bait."

Atton looked at her. "You know how the Republic thinks?"

"I fought for them before, didn't I?" She shrugged. "I don't know if it'll work, but I know they'll be willing to try whatever it takes. They're almost out of ideas, you can tell." There was a pause. "Atton?" Demi said. "Do you want to kill her? Whoever she is? Or do you just want to get away as far as possible, trying to forget about her and the people of Nar Shaddaa?"

Atton was silent.

"Because there is one more option, you know," Demi said, meeting his gaze.

Atton roughly exhaled, and turned away. "This isn't like one of your pity cases, Demi. Renee is…hard. She's violent. And dangerous. She _lives_ on the deaths of others. I play pazaak for amusement, you—" He gestured off vaguely.

"I, what?" Demi said.

"—save the galaxy," he shrugged.

Demi smiled grimly. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting anyway. "That was just once," she insisted.

"This is your second time," Atton corrected. "And Renee, she kills people. For fun. To cure boredom. Renee's like that, Dem. She can't see clearly anymore. You can't help her."

"I'm not expecting it to be easy."

"I don't think you should expect anything at all! Renee won't give you an opening. She doesn't trust people."

"She trusted you, long ago, didn't she?"

Atton shook his head. "No. We didn't trust each other. How could we, when we couldn't trust ourselves?"

Demi knew that feeling all too well. But it was different for her, because although she was unable to find trust in herself, she was able to give it along to others. "Atton, I see how you look at her, and how she looks at you. She wants you back, Atton. More specifically, she wants Jaq. But if we can help her, we can save you both."

"I know all that," said Atton, his voice hard. "But I'm not going to let her have me."

"And so we're just going to wait for her to just find us? That's our plan? We can't keep running all the time, Atton. You know that."

"I know something else too." Atton turned and looked up at the sky of Nar Shaddaa, his eyes distant. "This has to end here. Me and Renee…it's over. It ended a long time ago, really. Now, it has to end. Permanently."

"So you're saying…"

Atton fingered his lightsaber, and headed back into the Swoop Den to meet up with Leo. Then three words left his lips, even before he had fully decided upon them. "I kill her."

**::.Borna Lys' Swoop Den.::**

Atton, Demi, and Leo rode up the lift to Yashel's spectator platform.

"You didn't see the race, then?" Leo questioned, feeling a little disappointed. They had met up back inside, and although both of them were glad about his win, none of them had seemed as thrilled as he had. Tempers were running high. He could feel it. They were all feeling strained, and he was sure that one more pull on the string was not something that would help them right now.

Demi smiled awkwardly. "I was going to watch. I was. That was in the back of my mind the whole time. But I remember feeling oddly tired…Well, mostly fed up and done with everything. I was still there in that corner after…Atton and I…talked—"

"That's stretching it a bit," said Atton grimly.

Demi sighed, crossing her arms and leaning against the glass in the lift. "I'd have to agree. But anyway, I sort of slid down to the ground and sat there. I remember staring into space, and then the location of where I was and where I would be in the dream sort of blurred together. I saw…me. It was as though there was a transparent mirror in front of me, and I looked around, just to try to figure out what was going on. When I looked back, the swoop den…It was all gone. And that's when the dream started." She trailed off. "It's strange. It's as though I have no control over anything anymore, you know?"

The lift went higher and higher, so the whole race track, except for the portion in the tunnels was visible. The skyscrapers and lights of Nar Shaddaa splayed out before them.

Leo looked at her. "Demi…these dreams…We really need to figure out where they come from. If they're making you forget things, if they're taking you from the real universe to some dream world in just a blink of an eye, they could be dangerous."

"Especially if I have to share them," Atton said in an undertone, leaning back on the lift's railing, head leaning against the glass. He fingered a pazaak card out of habit, absently, thinking about Renee.

Leo glanced sideways at Demi, hands in his pockets. Demi sighed. "I didn't want you to. That's the last thing I wanted. But you're right, Leo. You're right."

She did not mention that every night before she went to sleep, she secretly wondered what they were going to bring her this time. A bad memory? A good one? Something in between? Or a vision of the future?

Atton heard this but did not bring it up. He did not understand why, but she seemed to want to torture herself, opening the wounds of the past so that they consumed her, so she would never forget.

All three of them were relieved when the lift bell dinged and the doors slid open. They were now in a narrow hallway, with dim lights and porcelain vases that marked the way down to a door.

The doorman opened the door for them, and made way for them into a room. The small suite was plush and had two large windows, framed with elegant drapes. A short statue of some sort of creature with a bat-like face was by the window.

"Nice place you have here," Atton said to nobody in particular. "A bit too stuffy for my taste, but still…"

"Yashel?" Demi said cautiously, stepping forward.

Suddenly, the statue turned around to them, making all three of them jump. Apparently, it was not a statue, but a real-life Chadra-Fan, around up to Demi's waist, wearing elegant and colorful robes that brushed the floor. This rodent-looking humanoid made a small, chirping noise and walked over to them.

"I heard you coming from all the way down there," Yashel said, pointing a paw-like, slim finger down below. His Basic sounded very squeaky. "I know what you have come for. You have come for help." He then bowed to Leo. "Congratulations on setting the new, best record. It was quite a magnificent show. I can tell you enjoyed it. I felt your soaring sprit. Many racers race for fame, for credits, for glory. You race because it is what you do, and it is your passion. That is very honorable."

"Um, thank you," said Leo. He glanced at Demi, who was still looking at Yashel. "Thank you very much."

"You said earlier that you know what we have come for?" she asked.

"Indeed," said Yashel. He turned his gaze from Demi, to Atton, to Leo. "The lonely girl, the runaway lad, and the uncertain protector have all found their way to me. They are looking for my wares. My store. Unfortunately, it is no more."

"What do you mean?" Demi said, knowing this was not something they wanted to hear.

"I have sold my store. I am no longer selling medicine protecting you from illnesses, Sith enchantments, or anything of the like. I am retired, you might say, conveniently able to rest up here in this little room and watch racers swoop race as I please. But I do have something that may help you."

Yashel climbed up onto a chair, closed his eyes, and put a paw out in front of his face, facing his three guests.

"Er…What's he doing?" Atton said quietly, leaning down to Demi's ear.

"I can hear you, human," said Yashel, eyes still closed, hand still outstretched. "You forget that my species has better senses than yours. I can hear from a mile away, and I can see clearly, not just your faces, but the souls within. I can taste flavor more richly than you, so foods to you that are bland, are feasts to me. When Telos was burning, I could smell it from a planet away. Maybe I just felt it. My senses may even be more acute than my fellow Chadra-Fans. I have a…special talent, you might say. Right now, humans, I am making a prediction. About your future."

"Really?" said Demi, surprised. "Thank you, very much, but that's not what we came for. And I've already—" She thought back to Kreia, and swallowed. "I don't want to know what's going to happen to all of us. It's better if we just…don't know."

Yashel opened his large, dark eyes. "Are you so sure? What about your two companions? Do they live just for the now? Maybe they are curious."

Slowly, he closed his eyes again, and the next words that he spoke sounded deeper and more meaningful.

"_Barely a whisper, still it trails_

_Weaves your souls to its fate._

_Calls from the shadows, betrayal and hate._

_Inner passion, what dreams will they wake._

_Water and death, water and life._

_A moon will shine bright on a cold, cold night._

_Barely a whisper, this ghost stands tall. _

_To bring the end, someone must fall."_

There was a pause.

"Okay," said Atton, stepping forward. "Permission to shoot the cryptic guy, please?"

Demi watched Yashel. "You speak the truth? Someone must fall?"

Yashel got down from the chair. "Aye, friends. Someone must fall."

"But what does that mean? A fall to the Dark Side? A fall to death?"

Yashel shook his head. "I cannot control what my senses tell me. I only tell them to you, in hope that they might mean something to you."

Leo sighed. "Earlier, you said you sold your business. But that means that somebody still has a cure, right? We need a cure, any cure, something to help a friend that has had a Sith spell put upon her. She's in some type of coma and I'll do anything to—"

Yashel turned away and walked to the window. "I am sorry. I have told you, I do not have a cure anymore. And I do not know where those I have sold my business to have gone."

"Is there a name to the person that you sold it to?" Demi inquired.

Yashel nodded. "Not just a person, human. A company. I believe I sold everything, all my cures, antidotes, and potions, to something called…Vincentii."

**::.Somewhere in Nar Shaddaa.::**

"How did it feel, twi'lek? Did it feel right? Did it feel wrong? Did you feel things click into place when you kissed him? Did you think it was for forever? Or are you just living for one night at at time? Because, honey, at this rate, this may be your last one."

Lena was strapped to a wall by her ankles and wrists, and leaned as far away as she could from the brown-haired female who was looking at her searchingly. She couldn't help but utter a little whimper at the sight of what Renee was holding in her hand, steadily.

"What do you know about her companions, twi'lek?" Renee said in a soft voice, disguisingly gentle, but Lena knew better. In Renee's hand was an icicle, cold and dangerous, the sharp point just a few inches from Lena's thigh, ready to make its mark if need be, whenever she felt like it. "It will bleed," Renee had told her earlier. "It will bleed and bleed, and eventually the ice will melt, leaving no trace as to what hurt you, but it can't do anything to numb the pain. So I want you to talk, because honestly, I didn't come here to spend an hour talking to myself, just to get a single answer from you."

"I don't know anything," Lena said, and screamed as the Renee plunged the icicle in her thigh, and took deep, fast breaths, wincing and feeling tears starting to form, feeling blood spilling down her legs. The icicle may have been cold, but as it pierced her skin it felt on fire.

"That is just pathetic," Renee said, starting to pace around the room. "I mean, judging by what the two of you were doing, I would have thought that you would have known him intimately. But I'm guessing you don't even know his name. Am I right?"

"His name," rapsed Lena, hissing in the pain, "is Atton."

"Ha!" Renee threw up her hands dispassionately, and came back to Lena, placing her hands on the wall so they were face to face. "Don't believe his lies, sweetums. He can pretend and pretend all he wants, but his real name, love, is _Jaq._ Learn it." Renee pushed off the wall and turned away. "Who was that little blonde, twi'lek? What was her name?"

"I don't know!"

Wrong answer. Lena's high-pitched wails filled the air as Renee tore the icicle back out of Lena's thigh, roughly, not caring how many muscles she ripped in the process.

"I know—I know that—that Jaq cares about her," Lena said, through the tears and hurt. _My leg is being cut off,_ she thought. _It has to be. How can it hurt so much?_ "But that—that she was somehow giving him a hard time. And…there was a droid. And a white-haired male. That's all I know."

Renee stared hard at her for a long moment, and Lena looked back, not knowing what it was that she was going to do next.

"That's it then?" Renee said slowly. "I go through his whole goddamn process of bringing you here, and you say that you don't know anything." She turned roughly away and picked up another icicle. "I guess you're just going to have to be my entertainment for the night, then, just so you're not a total waste. I swear, this job ruins whatever social life I might have had!"

Experimentally, she touched the end of the icicle with one of her fingers, and a trickle of blood came forth, but she did not wince. Then, she lifted a practiced hand, about to through the icicle like a dart at Lena, but a door opened.

"Quit it, Renee," said the person who was coming in. "The boss wants to see you."

"The boss," Renee said in fake sweetness. "How nice." Her expression darkened. "Why don't you take a goddamn hike, Larken? I'm busy."

Larken chuckled darkly, and came up behind her, enclasping his hand over hers that held the icicle, so she couldn't throw it.

Renee turned to him, their faces barely inches apart. "You think you're such a charmer, don't you?" Renee said in a soft voice. Suddenly, she shoved Larken away so that he slammed against a kolto tank behind him. "I don't fall for creeps like you, Larken. Get a life. And tell the boss, I'm not here for his stupid schemes. He can come to see _me._ I did not agree to his terms. I am not his errand girl."

Larken pushed himself off the wall, obviously angry. "While that may be, you are in his territory and his company. And when he calls for you, you come. Or you suffer the consequences."

"Yeah, yeah," Renee said casually, walking over to Lena and unbinding her. Lena fell in a crumple to the floor. "You're all talk." She turned to Lena and roughly dragged her up to a standing position. "Goddammit, stop bleeding all over the floor!" Renee said, sighing profusely, shaking Lena a bit. "Get some towels, Larken." To Lena she said brightly, "Let's go on a little field trip, twi'lek! We're going to see the boss."

"I'm Lena," Lena said, witheringly and faintly. "I'm Lena."

Renee's voice became cold. "Do I look like I care? To me, you're all the same."

She kicked open the next door, holding Lena by the elbow, and walked down the corridor briskly. "Renee, do this," she mimicked. "Renee, kill that." She scowled deeper. "He could never compare to Revan, no matter how much he tried."

"You're a badass, Renee," Larken yelled after her. "And that'll be the downfall of you eventually."

"I am so tired of that guy," Renee exclaimed to Lena as though they were best friends. She went over to a console, and typed in a few commands. The door of the room where Larken was sealed shut as he tried to leave, and Renee watched as poison started leaking into the room through the many vents, watched as he clutched his throat, choking, falling to the ground in an instant.

"And he," Renee continued, her emerald eyes on fire, "could never compare to Jaq."

And, holding Lena by her side, she continued down the darkened hall.

* * *

A/N: If you were interested, I originally got the idea of Renee from Faith from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, except now Renee has sort of evolved into her own character. Oh, boy. I would not want to cross her. And the little Morgana and Shen snippit are left over from this fic that I will not continue. Just I made Morgana all creepy last time, and I felt guilty. lol Atton kissed two girls (who were not Demi) in one day. Good God. How did that happen? Anyway. Kudos! 


	25. 24: Renee, Part I

**Chapter 24 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Renee, Part I

**A** light flicked on, shining down upon Atton's tired face, making him wince.

The Republic officer crossed his hands over the desk, and regarded him sternly. Atton stared back indifferently. "You know what you're here for," the officer said finally. "What do you have to say?"

Atton laughed hollowly. "Where, exactly, do you want me to start? You wanted to know her last name? I'll tell you her last name. In fact, I'll tell you her whole goddamn name. Renee Zian Lunecaster. Last time I heard she was five feet, ten inches tall. She enjoys dancing, running in the nighttime, and, as you may have noticed, causing trouble."

The officer was taking notes. "And your relationship with her?"

Atton looked over at Demi, who was sitting in the corner. She looked just as tired as he felt, curled up there, head leaning against the wall, her blue and green eyes slightly diminishing. But she saw him looking at her, and so she gave him a small, encouraging smile, which he returned. Atton turned back to the officer. "We were…We were…Force, I don't know what we were."

"How did you meet?"

Atton sighed and sifted through his pazaak cards, just like he was sifting through his memories now. "It was an across-a-crowded-room sort of thing, I guess you'd call it these days."

"Recall it for me, start to finish."

Atton looked again at Demi, almost apologetically, then nodded and consented. Thus began the story.

**::.Many years ago, The Academy.::**

The first thing Atton noticed about her was her hair. Brown, curly, and abundant, it seemed to glimmer and shine under the lights, going down almost to her waist. The second thing he noticed, from this distance at the other side of the room, was her stance. She was slim and tall, and held herself upright, which just added to the energy and charisma she possessed.

Intrigued, Atton turned reluctantly back to the officer who was questioning him.

"Eres III. That's my homeworld, yeah," he managed to say.

"And you say you've been training at the Soldier's Academy since you were a teenager?"

"That's right, sir."

Atton looked around. She was heading this way now, weaving her way casually through the crowd. Now she was standing in the next queue, waiting her turn. One hand was on her belt, the other pushed back her hair as she looked around with a bemused smile on her face. A smile. Atton hadn't seen anyone smile here in a long while, and if they were, it was only because they were high on juma, and relating their whole life story to him, gesturing lazily, and as Atton won the pazaak game and took the earnings, they barely even noticed. But whoever this was, she was different.

"Did you hear me?"

"W-What?" Atton turned back to the officer. "Sorry, sir. My attention drifted."

The officer sighed. "So I noticed. What is your reason for fighting in the war?" he repeated, like a mantra. He must have asked these questions at least a hundred times in the last hour.

Atton almost said, _Because there's nothing else to do. I'm stuck here._—but didn't. "They have to be stopped," he said. "And…for the adventure of it."

"As good a reason as any." The officer tore off a sheet of paper. "This is your new bunk quarters, and you will be under the command of Officer Rai-el."

"Thank you, sir," Atton said automatically, taking the slip, and heading off to the side.

Pretending to be interested in reading the words on the report, he watched as the queue eventually shortened, and the brown-haired woman made her way to the front.

"Name?" the officer inquired for the hundredth time.

"The name's Renee," she said, her voice self-assured, not cocky or confident exactly, just ready. Knowing she's prepared and knowing that you know it too, and not caring what you thought at all. That's the kind of aura she gave out, and Atton found himself oddly curious about it. Where did it come from? "Look under L," she said now, pointing a finger down at the officer's datapad, a little smile on her red lips. "For Lunecaster. Just a little hint to help you out."

"Thank you. Birthplanet?"

"Nar Shaddaa," she said.

"Reason you want to fight in the war?"

"I hate my home," she said, and both Atton and the officer were struck by the truth behind her words. Renee shrugged. "Anything's better than back there. It was getting old."

"Well, you look capable, and as long as you're fighting for us and not against us, we welcome you. Here's your paper. You'll be under the command of Officer Rai-el."

"Sounds like a plan." She took the sheet of paper and started to head off, but caught Atton staring at her, and he didn't look away in time.

Renee smiled a secret smile, and after looking around, walked right up to him. "Something catch your eye, soldier?" she said in an undertone, whispering right in his ear.

Atton's heart started racing. But before he could say anything, she was gone, carried away with the crowd.

"Hey, Jaq!" Dane Ulgo waved at him from the other side of the room, grinning. Mars Wood was at her side, who nodded at him slightly grudgingly. They would always be competitors, but perhaps they could also be comrades.

Atton pushed off the wall and joined them. "I got moved to Officer Rai-el. You?"

"Officer Kempshaw." Dane wrinkled her nose. "Mars got the same officer as you. Just my luck. You'll both be best buddies and forget all about me."

Mars and Atton exchanged a look, remembering that day not too long ago that Atton had pretty much torn Mars' arm out of his socket during the Echani training session. "Somehow, I doubt that," Atton said.

Just then, a bell started tolling, resonating throughout the large room.

"Dueling arena time," Mars said, a grin coming onto his face. "The best part of the day. Eating weaker guys for breakfast."

"Force, Mars, that sounds so wrong," Dane said, but they all headed toward the training room anyway.

The training room was a rectangular room, comprised of greys, silvers, and whites, with a space cleared out in the middle where people could spar. The corners of it were marked with skinny, silver punching bags, acting also as markers for the boundaries of the ring. There were a few windows very high up, shedding light onto the scene. Here, you could challenge whoever you wanted to, or just have a practice fight. The winner of the match could either choose to sit out, or challenge another person.

Of course, Mars was the one challenging the most people. Atton had already beaten him and Dane both about three times, so Mars had learned his lesson and moved on. When Mars and Dane had sparred, there had been a tie, because the fight had gone on longer than was allowed. Now, however, Mars surveyed the room, looking for a worthy opponent. Then he grinned.

"You," he said, pointing a finger at a brown-haired girl, who was now sitting down on the ground, cross-legged, fiddling with something on the carpet.

"Me what?" Renee said in return. "No 'please?'"

Mars just looked at her. "Right," Renee said, and she got up to her feet, and stood across from him on the floor. "They always pick on the new person," she muttered under her breath. "Always."

Mars had his hands up protectively, but Renee just stood there, calmly waiting. Atton wanted to warn her, tell her to at least defend a little bit, knowing how when Mars attacked, he could get ferocious.

"You know the rules," said the supervising officer. "Once you fall on the ground twice, you have lost. No fights to the death, of course, and no weapons. If it turns to a wrestling match, I cut in. Other than that, let it begin!"

Mars immediately lunged in, fists ready to strike, but Renee just moved a little to the left, so he fell right past her and onto the mat. Renee looked surprised. "I thought you held the record here, Wood," she said now, as Mars instantly jumped back to his feet. "Honestly, I was expecting a little bit more from you."

"No talking during the fight!" the officer barked.

Renee smiled a bit, but complied. She blocked Mars' incoming roundhouse kick with her left leg, and ducked one of his punches, before kneeing him firmly in the stomach. Mars reeled backwards, but collected his balance before falling. He delivered a chop to the side of her neck, but Renee held his wrist and stopped it before it got any farther. Mars twisted out his wrist, and ended up doing some sort of spin to get out of her grasp.

"We're dancing now!" Renee said, laughing.

Mars was glaring at her, and started advancing on her again. "Where's your home, girl? Why don't you go back there? You don't belong here."

"Shut up and fight, Mars!" Dane yelled from the sidelines.

"I guess your parents didn't want you, that's why you're here at all. But you're getting deserted all around, so you come here, and don't realize that maybe we don't want you here either. And do you want to know why, girl? Do you want to know why?"

"The name's Renee," Renee said, blocking his punches.

"Because you're worthless," Mars said, and Renee held his gaze, and for a moment they both stopped fighting. "Because you think you're a goddamn queen who can just come here with no background and no story and expect to make it to the top, but the truth is, your whole life has been a lie, so you're trying to make something of yourself, but it ain't working, girl."

"Let me just make something clear for you, _boy,_" Renee said, and her emerald eyes flashing, so even Mars instinctively took a step back. "You don't know who I am or where I came from. But as for the why? I came here to fight. Now, I don't know about you, but I'm not going to be the one who leaves this arena without a fair match. So why don't you pull that big lower lip of yours over your head and suck on it, and let's see the soldier that you say you are. Because so far, I haven't seen him yet."

Somebody in the crowd whistled and clapped their hands at this. Atton watched as Renee and Mars circled around each other, waiting for the other to strike.

"Sixty seconds left!" the officer informed them.

"Come on soldier," Renee said quietly, never taking her eyes off of his. "You let those sixty seconds fly by and I've already won."

Mars realized the truth behind her words. As he went forward to give her a lightning-fast punch to the stomach, Renee pushed that arm to the side and shouldered him so he rolled over and hit the ground.

"Hey," Renee shrugged. "You wanted to go in that direction. I wasn't going to stop you."

Mars just stared up at her, sputtering and disbelieving, before he got up and stormed out of the room. Dane just shook her head at this from the sidelines.

"This match is over!" the officer announced. "Renee Lunecaster is the obvious winner. She can either choose to stay in the ring for the next match, give a challenge, wait for one, or sit out."

"Not a chance," Renee said. "I'm not tired yet." She gave a little smile. "Sorry, folks."

"Any challengers?" the officer inquired.

Renee walked around the room, inspecting everybody. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Nobody moved a muscle.

Except for Atton.

"I'll fight her," he said finally, getting up and pushing through the crowd.

Renee turned around and looked at him. "Ah," she said, smiling teasingly in that way of hers. "We meet again, Padawan."

"Don't get used to it," Atton replied.

"Rand versus Lunecaster," the officer said now. "The match will begin in three, two, one!"

Atton watched Renee, watched as this time, she had fists at the ready. She thought him a potential threat. Somehow, Atton liked that. "What are you planning, Rand?" Renee cooed softly. "I have the feeling you're not going to fall for the old feint-lunge-and-fall trick like good old Mars."

"Do you honestly talk this much when you fight?" Atton asked.

She shrugged. "Old habit." Suddenly, out of nowhere, one of her long legs whammed up against Atton's side, which he barely had time to block. "I think it distracts people," she said, smiling a bit now.

Atton shook his head to clear his thoughts, and they resumed circling around each other. Renee had a fondness for kicking, something which Atton learned fast. He ducked one of her roundhouses and aimed a blow at her head, a fist which made hard contact with her face and made her turn away briefly, brown curls obscuring her expression from view.

"You okay?" Atton said, but did not get too close.

"Yeah," Renee said, wiping her nose, recovering quickly, and then it was on.

In a flurry of fists and punches she drove him to the other side of the mat so some of the crowd had to part to the side. She delivered an uppercut to his chin, so Atton's teeth rattled together unpleasantly, then he shot an elbow at her which knocked her back a little.

"Come on, love," Renee said tauntingly. "Really give it to me."

Atton got down on the mat and aimed a sweeping kick to her ankles. Renee jumped over them and attempted to punch him, but Atton grabbed her wrist hard and rolled her over him so she landed with a smack on the floor.

"One point for Rand," the officer announced.

Renee got to her knees, then to her feet in one fluid movement. Now she was grinning. "One more to go for you," she said, ducking under one of Atton's incoming hits, and threw a curved punch at him, which hit him right in the face, at the same time kneeing him in the most-painful-place-for-guys-to-get-hit. Atton stumbled backwards, a groan on his face, and Renee shoved him roughly down. "One more for me," she said.

"You're merciless!" Atton exclaimed, amused, but just a little bit. He got up, ready to block. "Where'd you learn to fight?"

"Think, flyboy! I'm from Nar Shaddaa. You learn to pick up stuff from the streets. You have to, if you want to survive."

"Sixty seconds!" the officer proclaimed.

Renee did two crescent kicks in a row, the first one which slapped Atton's hand, but during the second, he grabbed her swinging ankle and attempted to trip her. Renee just moved her foot upwards more, yanking it away, and brought its heel down onto _his_ foot, jamming his toe with numbingly blind pain. She was really flexible. A fist appeared out of nowhere and hit him on his jaw. Atton was pretty sure he was bleeding. He did a strike to her neck, which she parried, and elbowed him once in the chest, then brought up the fist on that arm to his face.

Atton kicked her hard in the stomach, although he could barely see anything, just a blur of brown in a dark blue uniform. The kick made her stumble backwards a bit. Atton himself was panting heavily, looking slightly at the ground, which was a bad mistake. Renee ran over, and bashed his spine with a firm fist, which sent him sprawling facedown into the mat.

"And Renee Lunecaster wins. Again!" The officer sounded surprised.

A bell started ringing again. It was chowtime.

"Congratulations all, and see you here tomorrow."

There was the sound of many people's thundering footsteps, leaving the room, inching their way out slowly. Dane came over and knelt by Atton's side. "You all right?" she said.

Atton rolled over, and placed his hands under his head, breathing hard. "Yeah. Yeah, sure. I'm fine. Considering I just got my ass beat by a girl."

Dane smiled. "Get used to it, Rand. I'm going to go check up on Mars. He's not exactly the best sport, is he?"

Dane left the room, and the lights flicked off, leaving them mostly in shadows, except for the rays of warm sunlight that filtered in from the high windows.

"Good match," Renee said now, standing over him. She offered him a hand, which Atton accepted, and she heaved him up easily. "I think you gave me some well-deserved bruises." She was slightly shorter than Atton, and he noticed that her eyes were a deep green. "But you're too tense when you fight. It makes it so much easier to get you off balance. You're like pushing against the force, when you should be riding along with it, controlling it. You know?"

Atton nodded slowly, absorbing this. "Yeah, all right."

But she wasn't done. "You could be a better fighter. You could be manipulative, sneaky, everywhere all at once, predicting your opponent's moves, before even they realize what they're going to be. You have to _connect_ with who you're fighting with, and maybe that'll help you flow along better. But you're not too bad, considering what the Academy seems to dish out these days: Guys with all brawn, no brain."

"Hey!" Atton said defensively. "Look, there's only so much shame a guy can take. Go easy on me, will ya?"

Renee smiled. "Sorry." She held out her hand again. "I'm Renee."

"So I've heard," Atton said dryly, shaking it. "I'm Jaq. Jaq Rand. Don't wear it out, though."

He headed off toward the locker rooms, to wipe the sweat and blood off his face a bit. To his surprise, Renee followed him.

"Um," Atton said, pointing at the 'Men Only' sign.

Renee smiled. "I'll save you a table," she said, disappearing into another door that led into the mess hall.

"Thanks," Atton said after her. "I guess."

**::.Later.::**

The mess hall was one of many scattered throughout the academy. A crescent-shaped bar was at the side, where many recruits drank up. You were only allowed two alcoholic drinks a day, and after that, they made you drink this boring, poisonous thing called water.

"Hey, Rand," Dane called, over at the bar. She was patting Mars on the back, who was staring into his drink, holding it tightly, his face a deep shade of red.

Atton shook his head and started to make his way over, when…

"Heya, flyboy."

Rene was at the other end of the room, sitting down at a bench table, her back leaning against a wall. Her leg was propped up on the bench, knee pointing upwards, the other foot dangling below. Pazaak cards were splayed out on the table beside her. She looked slightly…sad.

Dane looked over at Atton, then at her, then nodded her consent, mouthing, "I'll take care of Mars over here."

Atton took a deep breath and walked down to Renee, sitting at the bench opposite her.

She glanced sideways at him and motioned at the pazaak cards. "I swiped them when you weren't looking. They're a pretty sturdy deck. Want to play?"

Atton rolled his eyes and grabbed his cards back. "You know, if you wanted to see them so bad, you could have just asked me."

"Oh, now, where's the fun in that?" Renee smiled and turned to face him now, setting both her feet down, hands clasping together. "Let's talk, flyboy."

"You like calling people that, don't you? I'm not a pilot. I'm a soldier."

"That's what you say, but that's only now. Who knows what you'll be in the future? Besides, 'flyboy' is way more fun to say, don't you think?"

Atton smiled at her antics, and tapped his fingers on the table absently. "Have it your way. I'll get us some drinks. What do you want? A juma?"

"Urgh. No." Renee made a face and shook her head. "That stuff is gross. The nastiest. My 'rents, they own a cantina back in Nar Shaddaa. I didn't exactly grow up with rainbows and flowers, and even I was surprised at the crazy stuff that drink could make people do. So, water, please."

"Now where's the fun in that?" Atton said with a teasing smile, getting up and heading to the bar. When he came back however, he had the aforementioned water, as well as some plain soup and bread for the both of them.

"Thanks," Renee said, breaking off a piece of bread and pushing the rest back at him. "I'm done."

"What?" Atton said disbelievingly. "How can you fight two guys and still have energy afterwards, living on just one glass of water and a measly piece of bread?"

Renee shrugged. "What can I say?" She grinned. "I travel light."

Atton shook his head, amused. Then he turned around to glance at Mars, who was running his hands through his hair, elbows on the counter, but other than that, he seemed fine. "Mars is going to hold a grudge against you for the rest of eternity, you know."

"Oh, he'll get over it eventually. I have." She was silent for a moment, then added, "Is he always like that? I mean, does he say things like that to someone who is even remotely a threat?"

"That's just Mars for you, I guess," Atton said. "Biggest schutta if there ever was one. I'm serious. He has his issues, but he's someone you'd like to have by your side during a real war. Because when he gets pissed off, he's on fire. And I know it doesn't seem like it now, but he knows how to handle himself under pressure."

"I suppose," Renee said softly, looking down at the table. Then she seemed to wake up. "I mean, it's not like I'm taking what he said too seriously. It was probably his last defense before I whupped him bad. He probably knew that. And I couldn't care less about what he thought. Just…some of the stuff he said. It's true."

_You don't belong here. You're getting deserted all around. You're worthless._

Atton stared at her, not expecting this, and Renee rolled her eyes. "Let's get out of here, flyboy. This room is depressing. It's doing stuff to me."

Atton got up as she did, and they left their food there, weaving through the tables. Atton could feel Mars' eyes on them as they exited.

"That girl's trouble," Atton heard Mars say to Dane. "It follows her wherever she goes. You mark my words, Dane. Atton better get out while he can."

Little did Atton know how right he would be.

**::.A few days later.::**

Atton and Renee were running. Sunlight played on both of their brown hair and Renee's curls were flying behind her in the wind. They ran at the head of the pack, along the eight-mile training trail. Renee was laughing.

"Come on, flyboy!" she yelled, as they sprinted up a hill together, the grass damp and green beneath their feet. Atton felt like his lungs were capsizing, but he couldn't stop running. He felt suddenly…free.

They had long since left the other soldiers behind them. Now, Renee slowed to a walk, and dirt crunched beneath their boots as they breathed hard.

These past few days he had spent mostly with Renee, only briefly talking to Dane and trying to avoid Mars altogether. The latter was rather hard to do, however, especially since they roomed together. Late at night Atton awoke to find the bunk above his empty, and he soon discovered this was because Mars spent almost every hour he could training and training even more. He probably wanted to duel Renee again, and show her where she belonged, but Atton and Renee hadn't gone back to the practice arena for a while. Instead, they'd head over to one of the empty gyms, and play pazaak in the bleachers. Occasionally they'd spar. His technique was getting better, Renee had said.

And they talked, too. Atton now knew that her parents were always so busy running their cantina, called The Dancing Gypsy, that Renee had been forced to spend most of her days exploring Nar Shaddaa. Renee now knew that the store that _his_ parents had owned was, ironically, a droid parts shop, but that had in no way, made him interested in or fond of droids at all. The only thing that he didn't tell her about was his little sister Gabrielle, or Elle. He wasn't sure why, exactly. It just hadn't been brought up, so he decided to let it rest.

"They're slow today, aren't they?" Renee said now, glancing behind her, but the rest of the recruits weren't there yet.

"We're just fast," Atton said with a grin.

Renee smiled as she walked. "Word is," she said then, randomly, "that you're quite the playboy, Rand."

"That so?" Atton said, feigning no interest in this topic.

"Mm-hmm," Renee said, trailing her hand on a bush of flowers to her left. "A heartbreaker, apparently."

Atton felt a corner of his mouth curling up in a smile. "Really."

"Really really."

"And what do you think of that?"

Renee narrowed her green eyes in thought, before turning to look at him with a mischievous smirk. "Sounds exciting. Unfortunately, I haven't seen that side of you yet."

"Well." Atton stuck his hands in the pocket of his uniform. "Sorry for letting you down."

"Don't be. Be sorry for me because of that fan club of yours who bug me all night long, asking questions about you."

"A fan club?" Atton repeated, raising his eyebrows, now starting to get his cocky look and tone again.

Renee snorted indelicately. "Oh, please. Like you haven't noticed."

"I haven't."

"Whatever you say." Renee looked thoughtful for a while then said, "Question."

Atton glanced at her. "Yeah?"

"Why are you with me?"

This startled Atton. "What do you mean?"

"I _mean,_" Renee said, frustrated, then shook her head. "Forget it. Let's just run."

"_No_, you wanted to say something, so let's hear it."

Renee sighed loudly. "Look, you know, ever since my first day here, ever since I beat you and Mars in that stupid dueling ring, nobody wanted to look me in the eye."

"That's not true."

"I'm being serious. But, for some reason, you do. Even now that you know all about my crappy un-childhood and all my annoying habits. Is it because I'm a bit of a tomboy? I take the place of some—some pal you used to have, back in your home planet? Or because I'm teaching you about martial arts? Because I don't have _friends_, Jaq. Honestly, I can't stand them. They get all up in your business with falseness and—and fake sympathy and…Force! Girls! You should hear what some of them talk about, Jaq. It's enough to make me hurl. Dane's all right, though. But, like I said—"

"You wanted to know why I spend time with you?"

"Well…" Renee rolled her eyes. "Yeah. It doesn't make sense."

"Because—because you're different."

Renee raised her eyebrows. "I'm different. Nice one, Jaq."

"No, it's a compliment. It's a—"

"You know what? Let's just run. Let's just forget that I ever brought this up."

Renee started running, gaining ground, faster and faster. Atton ran up behind her, and started jogging alongside her. "You honestly want to know why?" he said.

"No!" Her eyes were focused on the path ahead of her. "I d—"

"Because of this." And, forgetting the beads of sweat that had gathered on his forehead, forgetting that maybe the rest of the recruits would catch up to them any moment, forgetting pretty much all coherent thought except for what he was crazy enough to do next, Atton intervened into her path so she had to stop running, and then, he kissed her.

Renee was surprised at first, but she caught on quick. Force, she really did. The world was swirling, swirling, and they were both out of breath from running, running, and their hearts were beating, beating to some wild rhythm that they could not keep up with. She tasted of sun and fire and wind, and though they were both unsure, they played along because now there was no going back.

And then they heard the footfalls of the rest of the class, finally catching up, and so they drew apart and kept on running. And Renee was laughing once again into the sky.

**::.Present time, Republic Office on the Docks.::**

There was silence for a few moments in the room, and then the officer ordered the lights to be switched back on. Atton kept his eyes staring at the same part of the desk he had been looking at for the last hour, still hearing her laughter in his ears, until it was drowned away into the place where memories go.

"What happened next?" the officer inquired, a tad gently. Atton had not said aloud the last part, but the officer was keen enough to gather that on his own. And Demi had seen and heard it all in his thoughts.

Atton looked up, and sat up a little bit. He had already decided what he was going to say. "We met Revan. And after the Mandalorian Wars, Renee stayed with Revan to fight during the Jedi Civil War. That's the last time I saw her. Last I heard, she became some sort of Sith Assassin, one of the most elite. That's all I know."

"Really," said the officer, sounding interested. "A Sith Assassin? That's something new that we have not heard before. We must look into that. That explains a lot about her and her…techniques." He pushed back his chair and stood up, holding out his hand for Atton to shake. "Thank you for your time. We know this must be difficult for you, but you must understand, we have no choice, but to kill her."

Atton nodded, looking strained, and shook the officer's hand wearily. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

The officer gestured out the door. "Come see us if you have any other information that would be helpful to our case."

Atton left and Demi followed without a word.

**::.Outside.::**

Demi walked beside Atton, as a speeder zoomed somewhere above them. She wasn't really sure what she should say, or if she should even say anything at all. She wasn't sure if she should look, at him, or at the ground…It was strange now.

"So," she said, and had to clear her throat a little. She hadn't spoken in about an hour, and was more than thirsty. "What really happened?"

Atton sighed and looked up towards the night sky. "I'll tell you back at the ship, how's that? After eating about half of our food rations, that is. I can't believe they didn't even give us a glass of water or something. Talk about bad service."

"It's a crime," Demi agreed solemnly. They glanced at each other, and Demi smiled a bit, relieved that at least their old comradeship was slightly back.

But she could not ignore the dark shadows that still clouded his eyes at the thought of Renee, and whatever she had become. She wished she could at least take his hand and let him know it was all right, but didn't have the courage to. And so the two figures just walked back in silence.

**::.Somewhere in Nar Shaddaa.::**

"You wanted to see me?" Renee said with a grin, pushing Lena to the ground and walking inside the room, the door sliding shut behind her. "Huh, boss?"

The shape in the chair was faced away from her, and she knew the person in it would not turn to her even once throughout the whole meeting. "You're going soft, Renee."

That made the grin on Renee's face wipe right off. Stopping in her tracks she said, "What did you say?"

"You heard me. You're going soft. And it's all because of that rascal's presence here on our planet. Causing havoc at our base on the Rim, and now he's here." The figure chuckled softly, and lighted a cigarra. Renee saw the smoke lift up in the air above him, and hoped he would choke on it. "He sounds interesting. I'd like to meet him."

"I'm going soft?" Renee repeated dangerously. With this, she picked up Lena off the ground, who moaned and struggled, but had long since given up really trying. "Good-bye, flower," Renee whispered to Lena, holding her in front of her, one hand dancing on her neck. Lena's eyes now grew wide in panic, and a soft whimper escaped from her lips.

_GoodbyeGriffMissionLifeGalaxyGoodbye,_ she thought as she felt the end loom nearer.

"It's been fun." And with that, in one swift movement, Renee twisted Lena's head and snapped her neck.

Lena's body crumpled to the floor before Renee's feet. Renee stepped over her elegantly and looked up pointedly. "I'd think twice before you say something like that again, boss."

"It's not enough, Lunecaster."

"Not e—" Renee broke off disbelievingly, unable to go on.

"You are a rogue, Lunecaster. You are not Dark or Light, not anymore. You are in between, shades of grey, just like I am, fighting for your own benefit. But that is not why we hired you, is it?"

"I just _killed_ somebody, Voren! I killed somebody right in front of you."

"Behind me, to be exact. Lunecaster, if you're going to try to make a point, please at least try to do so correctly."

"And I didn't feel anything," Renee continued, her emerald eyes intense. "I care _nothing_. I don't know who she was or what she might have been. We might have been friends, you know." She laughed softly. "I heard she was a dancer at that cantina. We might have gone and had our fun, had a real girl's night out. Now we'll never know, will we?" Her voice trailed off, then hardened. "Instead, I killed her, for you, to prove a point, as you put it, and you say, _I'm_ going soft?!"

Voren sighed and Renee thought he was going to get up and actually talk to her face to face, but she was wrong. "When we freed you, I thought you were going to be an asset to us. It's not everyday we get one of Revan's most dangerous assassins, if you get my meaning. But you brought us a worthless person to interrogate, and you have let our quarry slip by one too many times, even when the opportunity was right in front of you."

Renee's gaze was pure cold. "If you're complaining this much, why don't you get off your chair and actually do something about it?" There was silence from Voren's end. "How about it, old man? You and me. Show me how you did it back in the day. Really give it to—"

"Be quiet, Renee." Voren's voice was harsh and hard. It reminded Renee of grating ice. Decaying smoke filled the air around him. Voren pressed a button and the door slammed open once again. "Next time I expect a report, I expect actual results. And that means three, living, breathing bodies, Renee. Get them, get here, and our business is done. You get your nice pile of credits, and then you are no longer in our debt." He paused, then chuckled a little. "You don't want to get on this company's bad side, Renee. You know that. I saw what you did to Larken, by the way. Watched, in the security cameras. He may have been a fool, but now you are a larger one. I thought you would have learned this by now. _There are worse things than death._ Now leave me and get out."

Renee swept out without another word. "You're right, old man," she murmured as she wandered back down the hall. "There are worse things than death. But I don't believe that's what you'll be saying when you find a blaster held to your head one unsuspecting night. I don't believe it at all…"

**::.Nausuma.::**

The door slammed shut behind Morgana, and the torch nearby wavered with the breeze it made. A servant was waiting for her, all in black, a silent guard. And then, Morgana morphed into her true form, the transformation made clear to the servant as 'she' emerged from the shadows. Firelight played upon this new person's features, a male, tall, with broad shoulders, and a powerful presence. He wore dark armor, and thick, black facial hair made his face look harder, as though etched from stone. His eyes glinted, sardonic and cruel.

"She's made peace with her past," he informed the servant in a deep, rumbling voice. "I never deemed it possible. We, as always, have underestimated her." Then, he laughed softly. "I think it is time I speak to her face to face, what do you think?"

The servant remained motionless, staring blankly ahead. "If you wish it, Aleksander."

"Get me the possessions that you stripped from her when you captured her," Aleksander commanded, as he peered through the peephole, and watched the dark-haired woman with the violet eyes close them in exhaustion. But she was far from extinguished. Not yet. "The fun and games are far from over," Aleksander said softly. He unlocked the door. "But the more serious game begins."

* * *

A/N: Dramatic music inserted here...All right, here's to the anonymous reviewers that I can't reply to so I'll just leave this here:

**Aly – **Hey, you! I hope you're having a good spring break. Yes, Renee is evil, but that's partly why she's so fun to write. :) (I'm sorry about Lena! Cowers in corner...) Anyways, good luck in your writing.

**Marie – **Thank you very much! I say this a lot, but I mean it every time and your review really made my day. Well, here's another pretty long chapter. :) (Which twist, exactly? lol I can hardly keep track of them…Darn plot bunnies…) Anyhoo, thanks very much again and I hope you keep reading!

To everyone else if anyone's out there: The next chapter is still being edited but should be up soon! (Renee, Part II, if you can imagine.) Thanks for your patience. Later, all. ;)


	26. 25: Renee, Part II

**A/N: **Beware of a few F-bombs! When put together, Renee and Jaq have quite a dirty mouth. : ) Other than that, hope you enjoy. Here you go.

-twinklet26.

* * *

**Chapter 25 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Renee, Part II

**T**he _Ebon Hawk_ was filled with the sounds of spoons clanging against bowls and cups moving across the table. Leo had said that he was tired of eating dried food rations, so he had taken the meat and vegetables, dumped water over them, added spices, and heated it up, thus making something that resembled soup. Warm, delicious, and filling.

"I'm so hungry, I could eat a gizka," Atton declared, digging into his food.

"If I recall correctly, we do happen to have some gizkas aboard this ship," said Leo, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Although they do have that immortal problem going for them, so I wonder what would happen after you eat them. Maybe they'd come back to life in your stomach?"

Atton's face paled, mid-bite, suddenly feeling a very strong case of indigestion, even though he had barely had anything to eat. "Wise-ass," he grumbled.

Now there was silence in the main hold. It was a slightly tense silence, of words and apologies unsaid. And it was also one of many worries. Brianna, Renee, Lena, Vincentii…

"What should we do?" Demi said finally, breaking the quiet. "We can't just walk up to Vincentii's front door, pound on it, and demand for them to give us Brianna's cure. For one thing, we don't know where they are, and it's because of them that we're here in the first place. We've walked right into their hands. Back on Central Port, it was them who did the Sith enchantment over Brianna. It's them who has the only known cure for her, on a locked-in planet, conveniently where there is also an ex-Sith Assassin and current killer on the loose."

"I'd say someone up there really has it in for us," Atton said, scraping up the remains of his bowl.

"I second that. But what is it that Vincentii wants from us?" Leo questioned, looking agitated. "Do they want my sample of the Clarande-V? They seem to be doing just fine without it."

"Maybe they're going to do what all big companies do," Atton suggested. "Have some sort of meeting, involving many questions, credits, and if we're lucky, only a small blaster aimed at our backs."

"Not all companies are like that," Demi said apprehensively, trying to be fair.

"I fear that Vincentii is going to get us involved in something much darker and dangerous than a simple gun-point interrogation. They like to think big, shall we say. That's been proven, don't you think?" Leo pushed back his chair and dumped his bowl in the sink. "I'm going to go check on Brianna and try to get some sleep. You do the same. As much as I hate to say it, we've done all we can for one night."

"Hey, White-Haired Boy," Atton called, and Leo turned around. "If you want, I can come over later and act as a sort of translator for you and Brianna. Since I can read her mind, and all. How about it?"

Leo smiled a bit. "Thank you, Atton. I just might take you up on that offer. Good-night, Demi."

Demi waved a bit. "'Night." She watched her brother disappear down the corridor, then turned to Atton. "Let's finish that story of yours, then."

Atton sighed, and Demi half-wished that she had never brought it up. "Now? Force knows what time it is."

"I have to know," Demi said. "I…I need to know what could have made Renee from what she was, into what she is now. I need to understand her, Atton. And if she makes another appearance, I may not have the time to hear it all. For whatever motive, to capture her, to kill her, to turn her back to the Light…I just need to understand."

Atton sighed again, and ran a hand through his brown hair. "I don't think it's really possible to understand her and the way she thinks. Who knows what goes on in that twisted head of hers? I mean, okay, I was with her for many, many years, probably too many, and sometimes it felt as if I knew her better than she knew herself. But it's not as though I know every little thing that goes through her head."

Demi stared at him. "There's a reason you don't want to tell me," she said slowly.

Atton looked away. "If you were me, you wouldn't want to either."

Demi smirked just a little bit. "Is it very…graphic?"

Atton rolled his eyes, but a hint of red appeared on his cheeks.

"You're blushing," Demi said, grinning fully now, taking a bite of bread. "This is interesting. I've never seen you blush before."

"Don't get used to it," Atton grumbled, drinking down the last of the juma. "Look, you already know that Renee and I were involved. I don't need to shove it under your face."

Demi bit down something sharp she had been about to say about him and Lena, and fumbled with her napkin. When she looked back up, her sparkling eyes were serious. "I can handle it," she said quietly. "Besides, it's not as though you can honestly tell the story without including everything. And if you do, I can still read your thoughts, so…"

Atton exhaled, but he was smiling a bit. "You're determined to make this as hard for me as you can, aren't you?"

"It's a horrible talent," Demi said, settling down into her chair. "So. Where does it continue?"

Atton took a deep breath, and dived in. "It continues with a name, and the curiosity that followed that name. It continues with Revan…"

**::.Many years ago, the Academy.::**

"So who is she?" Renee's voice was husky as she brought him closer to her in the dark. Here, it was uncertain whose arm or limb this belonged to, but the darkness and shadows was where both of them felt safer.

Atton rolled over her on the bed, and brought his lips down upon hers to silence her again and again. "Let's not talk about her now," he said. He let his hands wander, marveling at how she reacted to his touch.

"Why not?" Renee said when she could, putting her hands on his bare chest to stop him. "I want to know. What's she like?"

Atton, not for the last time, sighed. "I only met her once."

"And?"

"And…she's…Force, I don't know, Renee! And I don't really care right now, anyway."

Renee rolled her eyes and brought him back down to her, before rolling over him and holding him in place with both knees. "What does she look like?"

Atton gave another resigned sigh. "She's about your height with dark, curly-wavish hair, violet-reddish eyes, and a six or seven foot tall stud named Malak who I dislike just as much."

Renee smiled and kissed him on the neck, inhaling his scent. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Atton rolled out of the bed and grabbed his shirt from off the floor, suddenly not in the mood for this. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"Because, Jaq." Renee fell back against the pillow with a content sigh. "She's, what? Like our leader of leaders? Commander of commanders? Ultimate Jedi? You can't help but be curious about what a lady like that is like. She's probably very powerful."

"Probably," agreed Atton, and he kissed her once more, until they were both feeling heady and light, loving the feel of her rich, brown hair beneath his fingers. "You have to go," Atton murmured finally. "Mars, spoilsport that he is, is going to be back soon."

"Tell him to come back later," Renee said, just as softly. "He can use my room for tonight."

Mars burst in through the door just then, shutting it behind him. "Yeah, because that's really my dreamwish. To spend the night in a frilly pink girl's dorm." He tossed Atton a piece of bread in plastic, which Atton caught in surprise.

"Isn't it?" Renee said lazily, watching him.

"No," said Mars shortly, switching on the light, making both Renee and Atton wince. "It isn't. My dreamwish is for you to get the hell out of my room." He tossed her a bread package as well. "There. That's my bribe. You both missed the dinner call, and Dane had to cover for you, per usual, and I can honestly say, we're both immensely pissed off at the both of you. You're both acting like a couple of kids. If the officers find you out, they'll move one of you to separate forces, and you can be sure you'll never see each other again. And you're supposed to wake up at 0400! Instead, you sleep in a few extra minutes, but still manage to make the roll call and morning drills without ever getting caught. _That_ pisses me off. It's like this war that's we're going to be fighting soon doesn't mean anything to you."

"Oh, please," said Renee, getting up and stretching, giving into Atton's arms. "It means things. It means that I can be far, far away from you, in a separate camp, hopefully. That, my friend," she said to Mars, "is my dreamwish."

"Yeah," Mars sneered. "You sure think big, don't you? Being the officer's pet that you are, I would have thought you'd have come up with something a little more creative. Like abandoning me, leaving me to be surrounded by Mandalorians, letting me die an honorable death."

"There's an idea!" Renee exclaimed, laughing, drawing apart from Atton.

"Except you can leave out the honorable bit," said Atton, and he and Renee shared a smirk.

Mars rolled his eyes. "Just get out of my effing room. Why don't the both of you have your fun in the janitor's closet, or something?" He kicked through the trash and clothes on the floor, and groaned loudly as he looked at what had happened to his desk. Datapads lay scattered across the carpet. "Force, what's wrong with you? You're supposed to _stay_ on the bed. I have to clean this heap up now, because of your mess."

"Aw, thanks, Mars," Atton said, thumping him on the back. "You're a good friend. Really, you are."

"Go to hell!" Mars snapped.

Atton just laughed. "We'll miss you, too." He put an arm around Renee and the two of them went out the door. "Don't worry, we'll be back!"

"Oh, please," Mars said, rolling his eyes, throwing out some paper, then giving up and climbing the ladder to his bunk above Atton's. "Please, for your sake if not for mine, take your time."

**::.A few days later.::**

"Atten…tion!"

_Not again,_ Atton thought mentally. Beside him, Renee stood, straight and determined, just another person in a long line of soldiers all in their ranks and positions. She caught his eye and mouthed, "Buck up, soldier," so Atton reluctantly fixed his posture.

"Entering…Revan and Malak!"

Atton felt Renee's newly piqued curiosity and interest, knowing it took her great discipline not to look over the tall shoulder in front of her to see who this 'Revan' was. He heard footsteps of two people, both moving at a quick pace, one lighter than the other.

And then, he felt her. It was as though she had been carried by a light breeze, and her devilish violet eyes found his before he even knew that he was looking for them.

"It's you," Revan said quietly, her eyes blazing with red sparks just waiting to form. Atton didn't know why, but she seemed more serious than the time he had seen her last. Now, it was as though she was looking straight into him, into his very soul, his desires, and she wouldn't let him break their gaze. "You've changed."

Atton heard this with surprise. Was this a good thing or…?

"I'm not sure yet," Revan said, in reply to his thoughts. "But we'll soon see, won't we?"

Malak then came and spoke to Revan in a low voice. "The soldiers are ready. I know this, just by the tension in the room. They are hungry. They are hungry for war. And they are well-trained. After the demonstrations tomorrow, we cannot stay here long. Do not become too attached. We have alliances to make along the Outer Rim as well as…"

"I know all this, Malak," Revan said dangerously, impatiently. "Don't you feel it?" she said then, so softly that Atton could barely hear her. But it was as though she did want him to hear. "The power…The potential…" She looked up sideways at Malak. "You know what I mean."

Malak looked, a little surprised, at Renee, then down the line and at Atton. Piercing amber eyes. Atton did not shrink under his gaze, if anything, he held himself more defiantly. _What is he thinking about?_ Atton wondered.

"Ah," Revan said suddenly, halting in front of Mars. "Competitive. On fire. You have passion that will bring you far."

"Thank you, ma'am," Mars said, looking ahead of him with pride.

At Dane, Revan stopped as well. "You have a good heart. But you hold on too tightly to people you have lost, or who you feel you will lose soon. Let them go. And fight for them and their memory when the time comes. That is all I have to say."

Dane looked troubled as Revan walked away, with Malak right behind her.

"You've done your job well," Revan said to the head officers, tightening her ponytail, letting its dark mass swing back over her shoulder. Officers Kempshaw, Rai-el, and Urikal listened attentively. Revan turned back to the soldiers. "And you will bring this galaxy victory. This I know. You all have strengths and strong motivations; things in your past that you will fight for with all your heart, and that will help shape your future. I'm proud of what I see here, and that is no lie."

She then proceeded to head out of the room, dark blue Jedi Knight robe drawn close around her form, lightsabers clinking.

And then, Mars, still in his position, let out a war cry, pounding the Echani staff he held in one hand on the ground. It was a cry for victory and honor, and one of the highest respect for their leaders. Eventually, the rest of the room joined in, so a beating of staffs against the floor rumbled and vibrated around. Yells and shouts and cheers rang true. Revan had one hand on the door, a teary smile on her face. They would never know how much she had given up for them, or what they might have to give up in return.

"Thank you," she said, quietly, simply, but it was enough. And then she swept out the door.

**::.Later, mess hall.::**

"Did you see that?" Renee hissed incredulously as they sat at their table near the window. Black sky and endless space stretched out beyond it as the Academy lay suspended in what felt like the middle of the galaxy. "She didn't talk to me. She didn't even _look_ at me. But Mars—_Mars_, of all people—"

"That doesn't mean anything," Atton interrupted. "Besides, you heard her. 'I'm proud of what I see here.' That applies to you, too."

"I guess," Renee said doubtfully, stirring her soup with a spoon. Agitated, she pushed the bowl away. "Did I do something wrong? I didn't pass under her Majesty's gaze?"

Atton sighed. "Renee…You're overanalyzing—"

Suddenly, above them, the intercom clicked. "Renee Lunecaster and Jaq Rand," clipped a voice. "Please report to Revan and Malak's quarters, located to the left of the weapon storehouse. Thank you."

Renee and Atton stared at each other. "Are we in trouble?" Renee said, eyebrows creased in worry.

"Guess we'll find out," Atton muttered, just as confused.

She stood up and Atton did the same.

Dane came up to them. "Hey, did you guys hear? You have to report to the—"

"Yeah, we heard," Atton said roughly, walking past her.

Dane Ulgo watched them go with a strange expression on her face. Hurt, downfallen, crestfallen, maybe. Revan's words were still ringing in her head.

**::.Later.::**

"Renee and Jaq Rand?" a person by the door questioned as they came closer.

"That's us," Renee said, impatiently gesturing at herself. "I'm Renee, and that's Jaq Notta Rand."

The doorperson looked confused. "But Revan sent for a Rand, and you're saying that he's not a Rand?"

"That's right," Atton said, nodding. "I'm Notta Rand."

There was a pause. "Then what are you doing here?"

Renee rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. "That's his middle name!" she exclaimed.

"Oh!" Atton and the soldier said at the same time, realizing the little mis-communication they had just had.

"Well," blustered the doorperson. "Go on in."

Renee and Atton were both wary when they entered the room. Aside from them, it was completely devoid of people. There was a tapestry behind a desk, draped over the wall in alternating colors of violet and red. Two chairs were set out in front of it, and there were two passageways, one on either side of the desk.

"Nice digs," said Renee, calmly walking over to the desk and picking up a datapad that was on it. "'To Officer Urikal,'" she read, as Atton sat down in one of the chairs. "'Intensify recruits' training especially as the war looms ever closer…You know as well as I that the Mandalorians are fierce and brutal opponents. They will not hide or take cover. They will keep marching, even as their ranks fall to pieces around them, and this is the sort of intimidation I want our soldiers to be expecting. Maybe they cannot be immune to it. Maybe we all possess some kind of fear. But I just want us to be ready. Revan.'"

Renee dropped it back down on the desk, looking deep in thought.

Then, from the right passageway, a door banged open and they heard the sound of a woman laughing.

Renee and Atton exchanged a look, and Atton stood back up beside her in rigid attention, not exactly sure what they should expect.

Revan then came into view, holding a mug of caffa in her hands, exchanging exasperated yet amused looks with Malak who was grinning sheepishly at some conversation they had been having before Atton and Renee had come in. Revan then set herself in the tall chair behind the desk, the colors of the tapestry illuminating her eyes even more. She took a sip of the caffa, then set it aside. She gestured at them to sit down. "Glad you could make it," she said, as Malak stationed himself by her chair, a tall guard at the ready.

"I'd say the same thing," said Renee, "Except I still don't have any idea why we're here. And what do we call the both of you? Jedi Admirals? Commanders of one third of the fleet? High-ranking Generals? Sir? Or ma'am?"

"You may call us," Revan said, holding the mug in one hand, and searching through a cabinet below the desk with the other, "Revan and Malak. It's simple, easy to remember, and much shorter so you can save some of your breath. Now…" She found a file and dropped it onto the desk. Then she smiled, and noticed the datapad to Officer Urikal had been moved. "Read anything interesting?" she said, adjusting it slightly so it was back into place, her eyes twinkling.

"Not my fault," Atton said automatically, and Renee shot him a look.

Revan raised her delicate eyebrows. "I never insinuated that it was, but now I'm starting to wonder…"

"You're here because we have a proposition to make," Malak said, deciding to cut to the chase.

"Yes. Thank you, Malak," Revan said, smiling a bit. "To put it plainly, we're promoting you."

"Promoting us?" Renee repeated. "To what?"

"Jaq is under Officer Rai-el, and you are under Officer Kempshaw, is that correct?"

Atton nodded. "Yes."

"We're moving the both of you to Officer Urikal, and you will be his right hands, I suppose is how I can put it. You will both head a squad, and you will be in charge of that squad. Dane Ulgo and Mars Wood…They are friends of yours, are they not?"

"Well, Dane, sure. But Mars…"

Revan waved that away. "This is war, Jaq. What I mean is: Can you trust them?"

Atton nodded slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I can."

"Good. That's cleared up then. They will also be in your squad. I believe when we sent you into the last test, during the Echani training, you three made quite the team, and made it out faster than everyone else. That is not an easy feat, Field Officer Rand." She turned to Renee. "And you. I have not seen you fight, command, or demonstrate any kind of skill, but I have _seen_ you. Your state of mind is admirable. And I have evidence to prove that the both of you are…special." Her lip curled slightly as she finished typing up something on new datapads, and handed one to each of them. "Give this to Officer Urikal at your next eight-mile run. You will start your new training them."

Atton and Renee looked down at the datapad, but it was encrypted.

"That will be all," Revan said, tugging her dark hair out of its band and letting it down. It was slightly wavy, and Atton noted Malak watching as it flowed behind her shoulders, saw his fingers flex as though itching to run his hands on the silky strands and feel them between his grasp. "I'm sorry, but I honestly don't have time for questions right now."

Renee and Atton both stood up, and saluted both Revan and Malak.

"So, are we supposed to say 'thank you?'" Renee wanted to know.

Revan looked up, a smile on her face. "If you're alive at the end of the war, you can thank me then. There's the door."

And so, with one last salute, they left.

**::.Later, mess hall.::**

"I was whirling through the air," Mars related to other soldiers who had gathered round, tankards of ale littering the table. "I felt the muscle in my right arm stretch and it was just _burning_. I hit the ground hard, right on it. The impacted expanded out, and I found I couldn't move my arm at all."

Dane was listening, a vague smile on her face, one elbow on the table, her other hand holding an ale. She looked up and saw Renee and Atton, and waved.

"My bone was shattered," Mars said in a conspiratorial whisper, indicating his left arm, "It was disconnected. Even today, I can't feel anything in this arm. People say you have to make sacrifices, that pain is weakness leaving the body. And I've been through worse than this. So maybe they're right."

"Can't feel anything in your right arm, you say?" Renee said, sliding over so everyone sitting on the bench had to make room for her. Then, suddenly, she punched Mars hard right below the shoulder, her fist making solid contact with his arm with a _wham!_

Renee grinned. "Did you feel that?" she said pointedly.

Mars had winced and hissed in pain, and was now rubbing it. The other soldiers were laughing. "What the hell was that for, Lunecaster?" he glowered.

"Oh," Renee said carelessly, adjusting the salt and pepper shakers. "Did I ruin your story's dramatic effect?"

"Jaq," Mars complained, drinking some ale sulkily. "Your girlfriend's outta control."

Atton smiled and sat down next to Renee, draping an arm across her shoulders. "She's like that."

"I'm not his girlfriend," Renee said at the same time. "Hey, Dane."

Dane lifted her tankard in a little acknowledgement, and drank deep. "So, what did Revan and Malak want?"

"Apparently, we are now 'Field' Officers, and you and Mars and me and Jaq are all under the command of Officer Urikal. Jaq and I lead the squad." Renee shrugged. "I didn't really go into details."

"You got _promoted?!_" Mars jaw couldn't drop any lower. "What did you do to deserve that? You probably slept with Malak, didn't you?"

There was a tense silence.

"No," Renee said presently. "I like my men with hair, thanks. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that Revan doesn't mind, so you can take up her taste of men with her. But you and I both know that that wouldn't exactly be the smartest move." Her eyes glittered dangerously. "Would it, Mars?"

"Gods, Mars," Dane said wearily, rubbing her eyes. "Talk about tact. If we have to remind you, it was Renee who mopped the floor with you back in the dueling are—"

"Okay!" Mars exclaimed. "Okay! Force, I got it already. I didn't mean it. Much," he muttered darkly. "I mean, it's not exactly secret that you've been sleeping around. It's sort of making me wonder how you get all of your favoritism from the officers…"

Atton narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists under the table. Renee noticed this and slid a smooth hand over his fist.

"Come on," she whispered. "Let's get outta here."

"I've never heard a better plan in my entire life."

Both of them stood up, the bench creaking beneath them, and made their way to the exit.

"Jaq, please," Dane said after them, her eyes wide. "You know what Mars is like. He doesn't mean anything by it!"

"Talk what you want," Atton said simply, not looking back. "I have better places to spend my time."

And, holding Renee about the waist, they left Mars and Dane behind.

**::.Later, outside.::**

The grass was damp underneath Atton and Renee, the smell of it fresh and crisp. Now, it felt as though it was them against the galaxy now. The sky was scattered with stars, as they both looked above at the heavenly spectacle above them. It was beautiful. There was no other word for it. The way the lights spread out across the canvas that was the night sky, the way they felt that this was one thing that would never change. Stars.

Atton and Renee lay in the grass, Atton with one hand under his head, the other holding Renee's. Their hands were clasped together, intertwined, held over Atton's heart, and Renee was turned toward him, looking into his face. His eyes were dark and agitated as he searched above for some kind of answer.

"Mars is a bastard," Atton said, tracing a constellation mentally. "There's no other word for him."

"It's fine, Jaq." Renee sighed. "I'm used to it. I've met worse guys than Mars. Believe me, it didn't hurt as much as you're making it out to be. I'm fine. I swear."

"You're fine?" Atton demanded, firing up. "Did you even hear what he was saying about you? I swear, that Mars is lucky there weren't any sharp objects nearby, or else I would've…"

"It's not as if it's the first time," Renee interjected. She smiled grimly. "People talk, Jaq. It's what mouths are made for."

Atton turned to look at her. "So, it's not for this, then?" And he kissed her soundly and deeply, closing the small gap between them with just one breath. It was different, though. It was gentler, peaceful, sweet.

Renee drew apart, a smile on her lips. "I knew you wouldn't just let that line go by without having a say in the matter, flyboy."

Atton smiled a bit, before sighing again, and looking back towards the stars. "I hate it though. Why can't people just stick to their own business? And why does it hurt me, obviously more than it hurts you?"

Renee kissed him swiftly on the cheek, softly. "Don't worry about it, Jaq. I can deal. I'm a big girl."

Atton looked down at her, and his voice was warm and tender. "I know that."

"That's good, then. So don't worry." She inspected his eyes. "Okay?"

Atton exhaled. "Okay."

"Promise?"

That made him smile. "I promise."

And for a moment, they were together. They were happy.

From a window in the Academy, Revan watched them from above, remembering her own late escapades with Malak, long before. She couldn't help but smile as Atton stroked Renee's curls, both looking up into outer space, into whatever lay out there before them. Revan knew where that road would take them better than they did. She did not once glance up at the sky, the moon, or the stars; instead, she saved her last glance for the two shapes in the grass, before she closed the blinds and the window. In the back of her mind, she knew Atton had seen her, up there, hidden. That was good. He was meant to. She was meant to be in the back of his cobwebbed mind, as well.

Just a few months later, as the drums of war began, those same stars would begin to extinguish, one by one. Renee and Atton would be among the soldiers who waited in their formation, blood pumping in anticipation and fear, even as they heard the screams and shouts of dying soldiers, and the shots of repeaters far off in the jungle. Planets would crumble and fall into dust. As Revan led them into war and victories and helped them find their strengths, Atton and Renee both knew they would follow her wherever she led. Nothing would ever be the same.

**::.During the Jedi Civil War.::**

Darth Revan paced around the room, her face livid, her red eyes bloodshot. "I need more," she said now, and Atton and Renee watched her, as she moved from one end of the room to the next. Her dark hair swung around restlessly, over her black robes and armor. "I expected more from you."

"We know," Renee said. Even she was intimidated by Revan when she was in one of her tempers. They used to get along well, even through their immense difference in status and station. They would laugh about nothing, they would tease Malak who accepted it, amused, and they would talk. But now, it was Renee's turn to listen. "We're sorry."

"Sorry?" Revan let out a harsh laugh, and stopped her pacing to face Renee. Suddenly, she thrust her hand out and grasped it around air, and Renee was lifted off her chair and suspended three feet off the ground. Renee clutched a hand around the invisible force that was choking her neck, her feet dangling. "You're more sorry now, aren't you?" Revan demanded, over the sound of Renee's gagging throat. "Does it give you a whole new perspective? Answer me!"

She tightened her grip, her eyes on fire, teeth gritted.

"Revan," Renee gasped, clawing at the hands that held her. "My lord. My—" She winced and spasms racked her body… "—queen. Please…"

Revan dropped her unceremoniously to the floor, cutting off their connection, and turned away to the wall and the growing shadows that lengthened it. This was the same room they had all been in when they had been promoted to Field Officers, except Malak was not here at the moment, and the tapestry behind the desk was red and black. And this was no longer an Academy for Republic soldiers; it was a Sith Academy. Atton helped Renee back up, the latter who was breathing hard and watching for Revan's reaction.

"I told you not to kill unless it was absolutely necessary," Revan said. "Together you are a powerful duo, the leaders of your faction, and you decided to go on a little killing spree. You both figured it would be _fun._" She hissed that word like it was venom. "I believe you are taking advantage of the trust, of the favors, of the generosity I give to you." Her voice hardened. "I don't like being played. You should know that by now."

"It won't happen again," Atton said. "We got carried away."

"There's the understatement of the century!" Revan cursed and the trophies, datapads, and caffa mugs on her desk rattled with the frustration her Force was giving out. "We rely on stealth and efficiency in this mission, and the both of you are using neither. The cover-ups I had to do for the both of you…You both have talent; you know that more than you should. But if you don't use it correctly, you'll find yourself having a very short life span indeed. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Revan," Renee said, sitting up straight.

"Then go. Head over to the colony you left and get the job done _cleanly._ That is all I have to say to you." She lowered her voice. "You know you both make me proud. You've barely even seen the extent of what I do and still you respect me. Or fear me. Either way, you made a smart choice in doing so. But you need to work to gain my trust, or else these opportunities I could so easily give away to another Assassin. Show me that you deserve them because the extent of your potential…that is something I do not want to see fail."

Revan used the Force to propel her two lightsabers on the desk over to her, both of which she caught in a firm grip. Then she disappeared through the left doorway, and they heard the distinct sound of a door clicking. That was their queue to go.

Silently, Atton and Renee left, and walked down the hallway, Renee moving at a faster pace than Atton.

"What's the rush?" Atton said, Renee never breaking her furious stride.

"Force, Jaq!" she snapped. "Are you deaf? Or just stupid? Did you not hear what she said?"

"They're just threats. You know she wouldn't really kill us. We're too important to her and her cause."

"Now you're blind, too? Did you not see her suffocating me?"

"But she didn't go all the way with it."

"That's not the point." Renee's emerald eyes were agitated. "She was right, alright? We fucked up, Jaq. We fucked up bad. You can't deny that. And if we don't make up for it, she'll replace us. You know she can, and she won't hesitate in doing so."

"Fine. Let her replace us. We can run away. Forget this."

Renee stopped in her tracks and stared into Atton's eyes, a furious and icy glare. "You did not just say that. You did not." And she resumed walking down the hall.

Atton stopped and watched her go. "Okay! Maybe I didn't, but why are you acting like this?"

"Because I actually want to live out the night. And isn't this what we've been working towards these past few years? We can't lose this now. We've got our eyes on the prize, Jaq."

"And what exactly is this prize?"

Renee stopped in the doorway. "That's what I want to find out. I want to be at the top. I want to be at the top of the game, Jaq, whatever this game is that we're playing. And I want you to be there with me." She paused. "Can you handle the challenge?"

Atton looked at her, and then he heard footsteps behind him.

"Jaq!" It was a familiar voice. Dane. Her voice was out of breath.

Atton whirled around, and came face to face with Mars, who was beside Dane. "You," he said tersely. He had not seen these two in many months.

"That's right," Mars said. "And we're here to talk some sense into that thick skull of yours, mate."

"How did you get in here?" Atton demanded. "This Academy's supposed to be hidden."

"We've lived here for years, Jaq," Dane said, exasperated. "We grew up as teenagers here together, remember? All three of us. It's not as if we'd forget that."

"Who let you in?" Atton said, his voice rising. "You're not supposed to be in here!"

"We broke in, and would you shut up so Dane can talk?" Mars exclaimed.

"Since when have you ever cared about what others had to say?" Atton said, his eyes slanting in suspicion.

"I hate to break it to you, Jaq, but you've missed a few things while you've been away. Things change. Dane, she's—" Mars voice was almost tender, something Atton had never thought possible. "She's my friend. I care about her more than anything else, and you, obviously, are the opposite, the way you left with Miss Sith Brunette over there immediately after the Mandalorian Wars."

"Hello to you too," Renee said, still standing in the doorway. "What do you want?"

Dane glanced over at her, then turned back to Atton, lowering her voice. "We want you to come with us," she said, desperately.

"Why?" Atton said sharply. "Haven't you made it clear enough that you hate me? That you hate us? Give me a reason why, exactly, I should go off with you. You both sound happy enough. You sound as if the two of you were getting married, to tell the truth."

"Don't be an idiot, Rand," Dane said. Her eyes shone bright. "Force, Atton? Can't you see what she's doing to you?"

"No," Atton said shortly. "I can't. Really, I feel better around her than I've ever felt around the both of you combined. You're the ones who made the mistake, not joining Revan after the Wars. In fact…" He took a pistol from his belt and cocked it at Mars' head, who instinctively took a step back to cover Dane. Atton smiled eerily. "I'd say you made another mistake, coming here. Who were you looking for, exactly?"

He took a step towards them, and Mars and Dane had to go back a little farther down the hall. "Jaq? Jaq Rand? The one you thought you knew after all of these years? Let me tell you something. You never knew him."

"Jaq," Dane whispered. "We're your friends."

Atton just laughed, tilting back his head to the ceiling and laughing loud and clear. "Yeah. Yeah, that's got to be it! You really had my back all these years, didn't you? Running off the way you did, scattering as fast as you could like cowards, anything to get as far away from me as you possibly could."

"Hey," Mars said sharply. "_We_ didn't run. That was you, Jaq. We stayed by the side we thought we should stay by, the Republic, and we stayed loyal to that side till the end. _That's_ what being a soldier means. And you were on your way to being a real fine one. Hell, I'll even admit it, you outclassed me." Mars pointed a wavering finger at Renee in the doorway, who crossed her arms over her chest indifferently. "But then, this—this nobody from Nar Shaddaa finds her way to our Academy, and suddenly, you're just gone. Suddenly, you do everything at the whim of Revan! I respected Revan too, you know. But do you really know what she's planning? How do you know she just won't throw you away, after she's done with the both of you? She's power-hungry, Jaq. Protect the galaxy against the Mandalorians, fine, but now she wants to take over the galaxy? And you're still sticking around. What is she making you do? This isn't you, Jaq. And you know it."

"Right, because instead, I'd really want to stick around the whiny and protective Dane Ulgo, and the stuck-up bastard Mars Wood, who thought he was such a hot-shot, going around, challenging everyone he possibly could." Atton put his other hand on the pistol as well. "Now I'm giving you a fair warning. You get the hell out of my sight, or I put this next bolt through your brain. 'Cause I mean—" He laughed again, but it was as humorless a laugh as a laugh could be, "—what are friends for right? We play fair. Don't we?"

Atton pressed the trigger, and a blast of energy whizzed towards Dane and Mars. Quickly, Mars shoved Dane to the side of the wall and out of the way, yelling, "Down!"

Atton just chuckled, and let the gun drop from his hands, where it spiralled down to the floor and lay there. The sound it made as it hit rock bottom echoed throughout the empty hall. "Yeah. What was I thinking? I mean what I said before, but I mean it more now. You're not even worth my time." He tightened his jaw. "We're done."

And he headed down the hall towards Renee, who smiled, satisfied, her emerald eyes twinkling.

"Jaq!" Dane cried, getting out of Mars' grasp.

Atton just waved casually over his shoulder, and kept walking.

"You know what?" Mars said, staring after him disbelievingly. "You're right. We're done! I don't even know why I bothered wasting my breath coming after you. You aren't worth it. You and Renee, you think you have it all. And personally, I think you deserve each other. But you don't really love each other, do you?"

"Yeah, well." Atton smirked. "At least we still know how to have a right good time."

And Dane and Mars watched as Atton joined Renee and stepped through the door. In his head, he no longer remembered Elle or the nickname she had given him, 'Atton.' He was Jaq now. Forever and evermore.

Mars fought a battle within his head, seeing Jaq's retreating back and the gun on the floor, and finally reached down to swoop it up, but Dane put out a hand to stop him.

"Don't," she said. "Don't do it."

"Dane—" Mars began, disbelievingly.

"I know what you're thinking. And maybe we can't help Jaq now. Not anymore. But I just have this feeling that there may be someone else who can. Just trust me on this."

Slowly, Mars nodded. Besides, Atton, Jaq, whoever he was…He was already gone.

**::.A few weeks later, the Outer Rim.::**

There was a girl in the corner that watched him, as he entered the run-down inn on the edge of space. A cloak was drawn around her huddled form, as she laid her head against the wall behind her, clutching her knees to herself. A table lay before her, glasses of juma and bottles of whiskey on it untouched at the moment. Her hair was of a fair color, but matted and stringy, hanging in slightly wavy strands down the side of her face. But she was beautiful. A different kind of beauty than Renee or Revan. And her eyes…There was something about them. Jaq had seen them before.

They seemed to stare at him, yet look through him at the same time. She wasn't really here. She had the look of a refugee, lost and wandering, after the Mandalorian Wars. Ghosts still haunted her. But there was something else about her…an aura that Jaq could sense. He couldn't quite pin down what it was…She wasn't a Jedi. He knew that instantly. It wasn't that she didn't look like one; after Jaq broke his targets they resembled her, until he helped them find their way again…to Revan. But no. He shouldn't get too close to her. There was an energy that maybe she wasn't even aware of, reaching out, trying to grasp…She was there and she wasn't there at the same time. She was hollow. She was empty.

Jaq turned away and made his way up a few stairs, before entering his room, throwing his pack on the floor. Then he saw her. A fire was crackling in the fireplace of the small, dark room. The flames lept high, in sparks of orange, red, and yellow, throwing shadows on the floor before it. He saw her curly brown hair, silky and itching to be touched beneath his fingertips. Renee lay under a thick, red blanket, and laughed, rolling over and looking up at him who stayed by the door, propping her chin on her fist and looking at him.

"So, you're back," she said, lazily laying back down again. "Still angry? Still going to throw furniture at me? Oh, right." She laughed a bit. "There is no furniture in here, is there? I guess you're just going to have to be content with yelling at me, but there's really no guarantee that I'm going to listen to you."

Jaq watched her, lithe and naked beneath the blanket, and overcame a powerful desire to throttle her and choke the life out of her like Revan should have done long ago. He wanted to kiss her red lips to make the smirk disappear; he wanted to run a hand over her graceful neck to hear her gasp and fall prey to him just like the others had; he wanted to feel her jerk and squirm beneath him, taste her rich blood in his mouth. Because he could never really have her. He knew that now.

"You know we can't trust each other, don't you?" Renee said, tracing a circle in the dust on the floor. The blanket had fallen slightly so he could see the elegant strokes that made up the small, dark swan tattoo on her back, wanting to be traced, wanting to be felt. "We can never be friends. Now that we've gone this far. We're animals, Jaq. And we share an attraction. We kill, and we make love, and then we kill some more." She chuckled softly, and firelight flickered on her face. "What a charade, Jaq. What a charade. And you want out. But you can't." She gathered the blanket around herself and got up to face him.

"We're much more alike than you'd ever let yourself believe," she said. "You can't deny that. Try, and you know you'd fail. We both listen to our consciences, don't we? We do what they say. But we both know that they're not that voice in your mind that tells you right from wrong. It's that demon in the back of your thoughts that says out loud things you'd otherwise never say. It's dirty, and it's dark, and it's seductive, and we fall for it every time." She chuckled again and walked right up to him.

"What do you want, Renee?" Jaq said through gritted teeth. He could smell the sweet fragrance in her hair, clouding his thoughts, but all he could see was the ashes of what he thought could have been, and a brewing storm that loomed closer. They should never have gone this far.

"What do I want?" Renee said. "No, flyboy. The question is: What do you want? Me? This?" She wrapped the blanket around him and herself, and murmured words to him, achingly dragging her lips across him, every curve of her pressing against him.

Jaq closed his eyes and let her, felt the pain and the realness of it all.

"I always tell the truth, don't I?" Renee said, entwining her leg with his. "I always say what I feel? Then know this. I want…you. I want—"

"No," Jaq said abruptly and shoved her off. "I don't."

Renee just smiled. "Still jealous, are you? You know they didn't mean anything. My method worked, didn't it? They fell. It ended…well. Revan got her Jedi, the boys—I daresay—learned something new, and I got my fun…"

"Is that what this is?" Jaq demanded. "Fun? Didn't Revan explain to you exactly what she thought about 'fun'?"

"Jaq—"

"No." He roughly brushed her off, which hurt her more than a slap to the face. "I'm leaving. I'm going downstairs."

Renee watched as he grabbed his jacket and left, slamming the door behind him.

**::.Downstairs.::**

The girl was still there, in the empty inn. She watched as he fumbled with his lighter, his cigarra trembling in his hand. He attempted to start a spark with his lighter and failed. The lighter fell to the floor, and he cursed, bending over to pick it up. The girl looked blankly at him.

"What the fuck are you staring at?" Jaq snapped, and tried lighting it again. This time, it worked. He took a long drag, the smoke lifting up into the balcony and night air before him.

When he turned back, the girl was gone.

Jaq headed over to her table, and held up one of the juma bottles, testing to see if there was anything left. The contents slushed and swirled inside. He took a swig, and set it back down.

He pushed his way through the tables, and went back up the stairs, this time bursting through another door. He shut it behind him quickly.

His victim was still there, tied up, gagged, her eyes wide as he entered. She was strong, muscular, and had brown, curly hair. Just like the lioness smothered by red blankets in the next room over. That was this Jedi's unluckiness. To Jaq, this was Renee. This was his payback.

"Had a nice night?" Jaq taunted, leaning close to her and breathing smoke into her face, alchohol still on his breath. He took a dagger from his belt and held it to the bonds that held her there. "I didn't. In fact, I'd say it was a shitload of anything but fun. It was—" Instead of slicing through the bonds, he slit this Jedi's wrist, letting the veins bleed, hearing her whimper beneath the cloth. "—painful and—" he proceeded to do the same to the other wrist, cutting an old wound wide open, "—torturous and sometimes…" He set the dagger down and violently ripped the gag off her mouth. "…I honestly just wanted to die. So I really don't know what you're complaining about." He leered in close so that they were eye to eye. "You're damn lucky, if you think about it."

"What do you want?" the woman croaked, her voice cracking, tears in her eyes.

"Oh, now, _why_ does everyone ask me that?" Jaq took out his lighter and watched as the woman's eyes widened even more. Instead, he lit up a new cigarra, and placed it in the Jedi's mouth. "What I _want_, is for you to die, of course." He pushed the cigarra further into her mouth, pushed the dirty thing down her throat. "I want you to stop tormenting me, stop seeing how far I can go until I snap, stop making me fucking kneel down at your feet and beg for mercy, because that's not how I work, Renee."

The Jedi gagged and sputtered, as the cigarra burned and scorched the top of her mouth, steaming her desperate, pleading eyes. In a few moments, she would be the first target Jaq had killed in a long time out of mere spite and anger. She choked and her throat made a gurgling noise, and then, she died before his eyes, unable to tell Jaq what her name really was. But she doubted he would have cared, anyway.

**::.Later, back at the Academy.::**

Darth Revan's curly dark hair shadowed her face. "You are young. You are full of energy. You are ready." She bent down so she was face to face with Jaq. "I am sending you on a most dangerous assignment. I am sending you after a very powerful Jedi. I am sending you to kill her. But I am warning you, she will haunt you. She will shock you with her kindness. She will try to break you." She leaned in close to Jaq's ear. "You will not let her, will you, pet?"

Jaq stared blankly ahead. "It will be she who breaks. I swear it."

Revan smiled maliciously. "That is what I love to hear."

Renee waited for him outside, leaning against the wall. When Jaq opened the door and swept past her, she followed. "Going somewhere, flyboy?"

"You know where I'm going," Jaq said, not looking at her, eyes instead darting up and down the hall.

"Are you insinuating that I eavesdropped?" Renee said, faking hurt. "I wouldn't do a thing like that. I play fair, Jaq. All I know is that it must be different than ordinary recon, the way you're acting."

"I'm acting," Jaq said sharply, "how I usually act."

Renee laughed. "I'll say. Moody? Dark?"

"You're not coming with me this time. Stay here."

Renee shot him a defiant look. "I'll go wherever I damn well want to go, flyboy."

At this, Jaq flew a fist at her that rocketed through the air and landed against Renee's cheek, sending her sailing into the wall with a _wham!_ She clutched the side of her face, blood dripping from her nose, and looked back up at Jaq.

"Are you happy now?" she demanded, her dark green eyes glittering dangerously. "You sent your message. You don't want me within an arm's length of you. But that's fine. See, that's how you should have acted towards me that first day in the dueling arena. If you had, then we wouldn't even have been here!" Her voice rose. "If you had at least pretended that you hated me that first day and onward, then I wouldn't have turned into whatever I am now!" She was practically shrieking. "And it's all your fault, Jaq, you know? You're the one who got me dragged into this. You're the reason why I can't stand the sun anymore. You're the reason I listen to Revan and do her will like some kind of puppet, you're the reason I hate Jedi, and you're the reason I kill without caring!"

"You're not going to lay this all on me!" Jaq roared.

"I just did, didn't I?"

Jaq narrowed his eyes.

"Say it!" Renee demanded, her voice shrill. "Say that everything we ever did together was a lie! Say that it was my fault, all my fault, that you were the one who got pulled into this. Say the blame rests entirely on me, because I was the one who was curious about Revan in the first place! Say it!"

Jaq shook his head, a vein pulsing on his forehead. "You just did. That's good enough, right? It ought to be. I was never really here to you, was I? You listened to Revan, Malak, sure, but me?" He laughed hollowly. "You know, the whole time I knew you I felt half-alive. You took whatever life I had left and stole it and used me and in the end, I was nothing but an empty body, with no soul. But that's the way things go, right?" His voice cracked. "That's the way things go. You use me, I use you, and in this hall we leave each other and don't look back. How's that for your ending, Renee? How does that sound?"

Renee shook her head venemously at him, disbelieving.

"Or you can just stand there and watch me leave, because there's no way that I'm staying," Jaq said in an undertone.

And he whirled around and kept walking, down the opposite end of the hall he had, a year ago, been so willing to leave with Renee at his side. But now, he knew, he was far better off alone.

Renee could not turn her back on him, but couldn't go after him either. She settled for a compromise. She whipped out a dart from her pouch on her belt, and threw it after him, her eyes wild. It whistled through the air, ready to hit its target.

Jaq turned around a second before it would hit him, and the arrow pierced right through his left hand. He had to hold in his scream, his tears, at the blinding, stinging pain that met him. He hissed, breathing hard, cut off the sharp point with a dagger, and tore it out of his hand, expertly. Blood smeared across his palm, and a few droplets fell to the floor.

He looked up to meet Renee's gaze, who was now staring at him, horrified, as though not sure about what she had just done. "Don't come after me," Jaq said, holding up the dart, and breaking it in two. He threw it to the floor and stepped on it, crushing and cracking it with his boot. "You come after me, and I'll kill you. And that's not just a threat, Renee. It's a promise."

Jaq gave her one last look, and left the Academy for good.

**::.Present time, Demi.::**

_There's this really depressing thing about opening your eyes after spending so long in some other world, some other time. First of all, the lighting sucks—to put it bluntly. These pinpricks, little white dots, just take over your vision and it takes you about seven seconds until you can finally see straight, and by that time, you wish you couldn't and all you want to do is go back to closing your eyes because everything there seems much, much worse. In reality._

_He had started off telling the story out loud, but eventually we realized that really, words weren't needed. We used our bond to exchange thoughts, images, and words. I felt drawn into his memories, and Atton probably felt pulled into them unwillingly. When it was over, that was when the whole blinding problem started. Really, it only lasted a few seconds (seven, I think I said), and maybe, really, I relished it. It was my in-between time, my period of stalling what I dreaded was going to come._

_Because I don't like being a bearer of bad news. It starts the whole I'm Sorry routine to cover the Awkward Silence, where you try not to sound pitiful but try, at the same time, to sound like you understand, and that's fine, but the whole underlying problem here was the fact that I wouldn't know how he would react; if he would even care. I wasn't sure at all. _

_Leo may be one for auspicious timing, but that is, unfortunately, something I have never really been blessed with._

_So I stalled._

"_So that's Renee," I said to him, softly, staring at this really magnificent scratch in the table because anywhere else and I just knew I'd start a massive panic attack. And that was Jaq, I thought. That was unsaid, but we both knew it anyway._

"_Yeah…" His voice trailed off, but when it came back, I recognized it as his. "That's—that's her, all right."_

_Then he gave me this look like, I want you to know that I never wanted you to know this, but now you're drawn into it and it's too late. Just remember that it's me Renee wants, not you. Just remember that._

_Don't ask me how I knew this all just by one look, I just…knew. _

_Another thing that I am horrible at (aside from timing and giving bad news) is stalling. And small talk. I never could quite handle that. I think small talk is one of those things that drives me mad about this society, but hell, without it, what ever would the people do with the mentioned Awkward Silences? _

_But I'm not like that, so I went straight to the point. There was nothing left to do, anyway._

_So I told him. "Atton, I—I'm not sure how to tell you this, and I'm not sure how you'll react, but…Mars. Mars Wood. He's dead."_

_The second look unsettled me even more, but I was ready for it. His eyes were wide in disbelief. Waiting for the punchline, drawing out the seconds. But it was not a joke._

_He finally turned away and exhaled sharply. "You mean it," he said._

"_I wouldn't just make up something like that."_

_I did not like how that sounded. Protective, defensive. This was not about me._

_He crushed a napkin in his fist. "How?" _

_I swallowed. I don't know how long he had talked while I had listened, but during the whole time there was this glass of water on the table staring right at me, and I never once made any use of it. But draining it of its contents, now, seemed like the worst move I could possibly make. Then he would know, for sure, that I was stalling._

"_On Deralia, we were attacked by Sith. Before that though, he came to Dane's door. He got hit by a lightsaber. Those wounds are…They're not easily healed. I tried, but the cut was too deep." _

_I tried. I did not try hard enough. I did not know. I'm sorry._

"_Will you hate me if I say, 'I'm sorry?'"_

_You just did, Demi. _

_There was a screeching sound as Atton pushed his chair back and stood up, and just then I realized how stiff my body felt from staying in one position for so long. "I have to think on this," was what he said._

_I nodded. "Okay." _

_That was all. But I had to ask._

_He started making his way to his quarters, feet dragging, and my voice followed him. "Are you sorry?"_

_He looked briefly over his shoulder. "That's the thing. I don't know. All those years, I really thought I had the guy he was pegged down; I thought I knew him. Now…Now I'm not so sure."_

_And I nodded again. _

_And there was one last look he gave me, over his shoulder. This one I know only lasted one second, not any longer, not any less. It stared right into me, boring into me, wanting to know the why and the how and the when and the what if…It was too much._

_And so he turned back to where he was going, and I heard the door open and then shut behind him._

_I closed my eyes at the sound of the click, and when I opened them, it was just me and the table now. And the glass of water._

_That girl. The one in the corner of the inn with the jumas and the cloak and the lost eyes…Isn't it obvious? That was me, Atton._

Don't hear me…I don't want you to know.

_That was me._

* * *

A/N: To be continued…Now I'm going to have to re-write that scene where Dane sees the Atton clone. Go to _kotorfanmedia(dot)com(slash)?p7211 _for the piece that was inspired by that post-Malachor V moment. Anyway, thanks for reading! Now we are finally going back to the present… 


	27. 26: Ashes & Lullabies

**Chapter 26 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Ashes & Lullabies

"**M**ake a wrong turn somewhere?"

At this, Ian raised his eyebrows and walked backwards to the source of that voice, shoes treading above the marble tile floor. Sun splayed in through the windows, and ash and dust lay forgotten in the fireplace. It was just another morning in Coruscant.

"Dustil," Ian replied, by way of greeting.

"Ian," Dustil said, just as solemnly.

Ian smiled at this. His short, dark hair was as curly as ever, and his yellow eyes glinted in the dim sunlight. "What are you doing here?"

Dustil groaned and sat up from the cushion he had been lying down on. Before him, a table of pazaak cards lay scattered. "I _was_ playing pazaak…But apparently my partner ran away."

"You looked more like you were sleeping than playing pazaak," Ian noted.

Dustil rolled his eyes, and ran a hand through his brown hair that was sticking up all over the place. "Ever the aware one, aren't you?"

Ian knelt down and started to tidy up the table, his amber eyes alert and vigilant. "I'm guessing Mission was your pazaak partner? Where'd she go?"

"No idea." Dustil sighed and stood up. "Last night we were playing pazaak, here, at this table, and then she beat me, as usual. We said good night and then…Oh, Gods." Dustil stared into space, horrified.

"What?" Ian said, standing up and handing him the pazaak deck, which Dustil pushed away in aggravation.

"I made a pass at Mission," he said, his eyes growing wide.

"What?!" Ian repeated, gaping at him.

"I don't believe me," Dustil groaned, slapping his forehead. "I'm such a—What was I thinking?"

"Were you drunk?" Ian inquired, bluntly.

Dustil shook his head. "No. No. It was just the—the fire and the light and her eyes and the way she laughed, and I think I just lost it and—"

"Well?" Ian demanded. "How did she react?"

Dustil stared into space. "I don't remember. She didn't hit me or pour anything on my head…I think she just…ran away."

Ian just looked at him. "That's it?"

Dustil nodded. "Yeah. That's it."

There was a pause.

"Dustil Onasi, you are a moron!" Ian exclaimed.

Dustil jumped at this. "What did you just call me?"

"You did something like that, and then you just let her run away?"

"Well, she _did_ leave of her own accord. It was obvious she didn't want me to follow her."

"No, instead, you decided it would be nice to doze off, here, on this couch, so that the next morning you could suffer memory loss and make it bloody impossible to talk to you! What were you thinking? 'Oh, yeah, I guess I just tried to kiss Mission, and she ran away, but I feel so tired from just sitting here and the fire in the fireplace is making me feel woozy—"

"Woozy?" Dustil repeated, raising his eyebrows.

"'—so I think I'll just doze off right here and start a snorefest, while somewhere out there, Mission is probably going crazy wondering what I meant by doing what I just did!'"

"You're not very good at doing Dustil impersonations," Dustil remarked.

"Maybe not," said Ian, frustrated, "but you get my point."

"Why are you the one acting all frustrated? You're not the one who started all this. It's _me_ who's tangled up in this."

"I don't know," Ian said, shaking his head. "It just made me mad, that's all. I think you're a bad influence on me, Dustil. I can't control my temper as well anymore. Anyway." He glanced at a nearby clock. "Masters Jolee and Juhani wanted us to meet them out by the steps after we get something to eat. We're going out."

"But what if we see Mission?" Dustil asked, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. "I mean, what the hell am I supposed to say to her? Do I apologize, and act as though I regretted it? What if that hurts her feelings? Or what if she doesn't even care about what happened? Or what if she just runs away and never talks to me again?" That thought dampened his spirits.

"Just tell her the truth," Ian said, shrugging. "Look, don't ask me. I don't have much experience in this department."

"Apparently," Dustil said. "That's something you're never, for any reason at all, supposed to admit. Anyway, come on, let's go." Dustil grabbed his jacket from the couch and they walked down the hall together. They were about the same height, Ian noticed. Dustil's eyes were flicking right and left.

"Calm down," Ian said to him, in a brotherly fashion. "Why don't you go wash up or something, and I'll grab some food and meet you out by the steps, all right?"

"Yeah," Dustil said, distracted, and headed up the stairs to the left. "All right."

Ian watched him go, shaking his head. He grabbed a few left-over banja cakes and wrapped them in napkins, downed a glass of caffa (he loved it just as much as Elaine did, just stronger and blacker), and headed out the doors to greet the Coruscant morning.

Juhani was already there, but Jolee was not.

"Hey, Master Juhani," Ian said, sitting down on the steps beside her. "Dustil will be down in a few moments. Where's Jolee?"

Juhani did not answer immediately; instead, she looked out towards the city with something that resembled scorn. "I do not like this place," she said. "I do not like the…the feeling this place possesses. It's…too loud. Too busy. Like Taris, except, perhaps not as hateful. The wind, however, is nice. Like Dantooine, but that doesn't bring too many good memories either. There are a rare few. But I cannot stand being here. The feelings it stirs…I need to go…"

"Juhani?" Ian said, worried. "Go where?"

She seemed to realize that her Padawan was sitting beside her. "Nowhere," she said. "Do not mind me. I am sorry, Ian. I was…I was lost in my own meditations. As to your question, Jolee is making preparations for our nearby journey today. Do not ask me where we are going. He will answer that yourself. I believe he'll be down shortly."

Ian nodded, and together the two sat in silence, watching the city scene pass by them, both content in the quiet two individuals could share. The comfort and peace of knowing that you did not have to say a word.

Then, the door behind them opened, and they heard footsteps and familiar voices.

"How can I wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" Dustil wanted to know, talking to Jolee who was beside him. "My bed only has one side!"

"Well, you better double-check, my boy," said Jolee decisively, strolling down the steps. "I've met kinraths and Dark Jedi more pleasant than you. And considering how many of them I've actually met, that's saying a lot."

"How many _have_ you met?" asked Ian curiously, gingerly getting up.

Jolee sighed. "Enough to know better than to search them out of my own free will, unlike you hot-headed youngsters."

"All right, all right, I get it!" Dustil exclaimed. He sighed and headed down the steps as well, at the right of Jolee. "This Onasi is cheering up in exactly five seconds. Where are we going, anyway?"

"You'll find out once I find the damn map," Jolee grumbled, digging into his robe's pockets. "It's been a while since I've been on this planet, if you want to know. And 'a while' meaning back in the days when the Coruscant Clashers were the band of the time. And by 'band,' I mean a group that plays music, and by 'music,' I mean that in the loosest sense of the word."

"The Clashers?" Dustil questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"I prove my point exactly. Anyway…Darn map. Somebody must have strapped a stealth field generator around it, because whenever I need it, it always seems to disappear."

"That's very convenient," Ian said obligingly.

"I'll say," Jolee returned darkly. Now they were heading down the street, but for all anyone knew they might have been going in the wrong direction. "I could have sworn I'd written down exactly where I put the map. See, the thing about getting old is you need to remember to write down what you need to remember to do." He paused. "And then, you need to remember where you put that paper."

"Honestly, Jolee, I do not think we need one." Juhani spoke softly, and then pointed ahead of them.

Dustil whistled. "I'd say those spires speak for themselves." He looked up in awe, and Ian beside him did the same.

Together the foursome headed up the stairs and into the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The clamor of the street outside suddenly seemed to drown out. There was nothing but this place, the atmosphere dense with the history of many years passing by. The air was cooler, and it was calm and tranquil, yet on guard, as though ready, waiting for the right moment.

Sunlight streamed through kaleidoscope windows, sending thin slivers of golden rays reflecting onto the silvery waters. Hundreds of pools lay down the immense hall, columns on either side numbering just as many. A silence so thick had fallen upon all four of the visitors. It felt like a single chime could break the balance that was found here, and send layers of water rippling down again.

Jolee and Juhani closed their eyes and remembered this room in its former glory. Fountains had spurted water in glorious heaps to meet the sky, criss-crossing each other. It had been a triumph of this galaxy, and the sound of the fountains roaring and rushing in its crescendo had become as common to the ears as any other music. A soothing, calming lullaby.

Now, it was too silent.

When Juhani spoke, her voice echoed. "This is the Room of a Thousand Fountains," she spoke. "It used to be a marvel, and it still is, but for different reasons. The waters here, below the Jedi Temple, fell silent in reverence and respect to the memory of those lost in the Jedi Civil War. Those whose lives were taken, or those who decided to turn on the Light."

"Isn't that about the same thing?" Ian said, but so quietly as he was distracted by the sights far deeper in.

Bundles and bushes of Flora, whose scent was lush and dizzying, marked a path. Lean sticks of stiff bamboo rested against the walls, and benches as well as numerous pottery pieces added to the decoration. This place was also a garden.

"It's no wonder where this place gets its name, that's for sure," Dustil said, feeling suddenly humbled by the simple extravagance of this place and the natural beauty it possessed.

"Well color me bronze, the boy has eyes," Jolee uttered in teasing amazement. "Come on, there's a meditative spot your Master Juhani and I have found and claimed as our own. That is, if you're both done gawking."

Ian and Dustil both blinked.

"Well," Ian said numbly. "You never said we couldn't gawk and walk at the same time. We'll follow."

"Carth has never shown you this place before, has he?" Juhani said in slight surprise, as they walked along the stoned path to their destination. Her voice, which earlier had been proclaiming the origin of this place, now felt hushed. This place seemed to have a similar effect on everyone.

"He's spoken about it," Dustil replied, sticking his hands in the pockets of his new Jedi robes that suited him rather well. "He's just been busy."

They passed by two scholars who were reading over a heavy volume, but they both looked up and nodded in acknowledgement at the two Jedi Masters, before continuing their stroll.

"How does that feel?" Ian wanted to know. "Having people nod and bow to you all the time."

"I'm not sure if it's something I can get used to so quickly," Juhani answered honestly. "I've become accustomed to…other sorts of treatment."

"It's a nice change though," Jolee said, stroking his goatee. "Respect. I tell you, I lived in Kashyyyk for Force knows how many years, and the only thing I ever got referred to was a 'hermit.' Lovely way to first greet someone, I tell you. Still. Everyone else thinking I was some kind of forest spirit gave me the space and time alone I needed. Ah, now here we are."

They had reached the place, an enclosed area surrounded with vegetation and encircled by a bench.

The four of them formed a squarish-circle on the moist ground and, watching Jolee and Juhani's example, Ian and Dustil closed their eyes in turn.

"Calm yourself," Juhani murmured.

With his eyes closed, Ian could hear himself breathing; felt each rise and each fall. And then a vision swam before his eyes. It was as though he had never closed them. Ian saw a girl on the other side of a fountain nearby, about his age. Sunlight flickered behind her curtain of red hair. This young woman wore all white. She sat on the edge of the fountain and dipped a white flower into the water, with tints of blue and green. She gathered the flower back into the palm of her hand, feeling the water drip, drip, drip. Then, she looked up and into Ian's eyes. And hers were gray.

"Calm your anger," Juhani continued. "Your frustration…Your impatience of waiting…" She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. "All gone."

Ian opened his eyes and startled, stared across the expanse of water that had kept him from the dreamgirl. Nobody was there. _That's what it must have been,_ he thought. _A dream. I had my eyes closed the whole time. But who was that? What happened?_

"Feel the history of this place." Jolee continued where Juhani had left off. "As we start your real lightsaber training tomorrow, remember that war and fighting and chaos…Remember what it brought to the people who died or turned during the Civil War. Remember the reason why these fountains are silenced and dead. Remember those that we have loved that have passed away. Remember, my friends, and never forget."

**::.The Ebon Hawk.::**

_Atton felt her before he saw her, lingering over his shoulder. The air sparkled with a tension, an electricity that knew no bounds. And as he stared into a mirror, a mere glass of reflections, and as he stared back at himself blankly, Renee chuckled darkly._

"_Spreading stories about me, are you?" she murmured to him, behind him. His eyes flitted briefly to hers, and then found they couldn't move away. "And you were the one who always talked about how you hated rumors…Well, keep talking, Jaq. Make me famous. Either way, I win. There'll be something of me left behind when I move on. But what about you? When you leave, who will miss you? That little blonde? Are you still trying to deceive yourself that she cares about you? That she's just too scared, unready, about what might happen?"_

_Her emerald eyes glittered wickedly, and then changed, to show genuine sadness. "Why won't you come back to me, Jaq?" she whispered. "I did what I had to do."_

_Atton's eyes moved back to his own, and he jumped at what he saw. Jaq. Cruel, cold, dark eyes, a lingering smirk at the curve of his mouth, a scar jutting down the side of his face, ragged and fierce._

"_You know," Renee said, her red lips parting, purposely distracting, "She can't help me. You wish she could. But she can't. After you left and went after that Jedi, when I was out on a mission, I got captured. That's right, Jaq. Who would have deemed it possible?" She laughed. "Ironic, isn't it? We split up, go our separate ways for one moment, and then, things all fall apart. And here I thought I could survive without you…"_

_Her voice trailed off, but when it came back, it was hard. "But I did. My captors, do-gooders and Force-sensitives, apparently had heard about me and the damage I had caused. With you. They wanted to know where you were, but I didn't know, did I? And so they tried to break me. They tried to show me the Light. Told me I could change, use my talent for the better cause. Over and over and over until I thought I could not take it anymore. One more time, and I thought I would finally just give in. _

"_They were so _naïve_, Jaq. Like children. And I was their play toy. People give out many definitions these days, but as for me? This was hell._

"_But then came the day when the Force-sensitives departed. Last I heard, they found their end on Katarr." She chuckled, softly. "A force beyond my control. And then, a man named Voren came to free me. Found his way in. Needed me, he said. Oh, he had a way with words. What a liar he was. And he set me free. And together, we killed off the rest of my captors. I had not felt so free in so long."_

_Renee stared hard at Atton, at Jaq, in the mirror, and lowered her voice. "So if you really think that your Jedi is special, that maybe _she_ could have something to show me, that she could be the one to turn me, I think you'd better turn around and try to break through the atmosphere seal they have over this planet. The odds of being successful at that are actually higher than trying to 'save' me. _

"_You said it before, didn't you?" Renee said. "Maybe we don't want to be saved. And I don't, Jaq. I really don't. I'm _happy. _But you and I both know this won't stop you from trying, right? Just tell your little friend this: So many of them, the best, tried to turn me back to the Light, but they failed. All of them failed. So what chance does she really think she has?" _

Her voice faded off, and the lights dimmed. When Atton woke up, head jerking from his pillow, he was breathing hard. He stared up into the empty darkness of his room, shadows and moving lights playing over the ceiling. He could have sworn he still felt her presence there.

**::.Later.::**

Demi had beaten him to the main hold, sitting to the side. It was of the early hours of the morning, still dark. Her legs were resting on a chair in front of her, her back leaning against the wall. A notebook was on her lap, and she bit her lip as she traced a line on the page, adding shading here and defining shapes there. Her head was tilted to one side, as she critically observed her drawing.

Demi's eyes were completely focused, flicking and darting back and forth, and she did not look up when she said, "Nice night, isn't it? Assassins on the loose, past memories running amok, cryptic prophecies being told, people getting hurt, shared dreams ruining sleep…And I can't think of anything else off the top of my head because I'm a bit brain dead at the moment, but all in all, it's not my ideal night."

"After going through all that, you'd think you'd be a bit more tired," Atton said in reply, joining her at her left. She scooted over to make some more room for him.

"I don't want to go back to sleep," she told him gently, placing her boots back on the chair before her. "Can't, is more like it. I can't rest easy until this is all over…And I guess now that's about the worst pun I could make. Because now it's literal."

"Nah," Atton said. "I've heard worse."

"Always good to know," Demi smiled. Their shoulders were lightly touching, but there was nothing uncomfortable about the situation. There was something slightly of a dreamlike quality about this moment. Some cities never slept, but here, nobody was there except for them. Everything was quiet. Everything, for once, was still.

Atton leaned over to see what she was sketching. It was a profile of a person, shadowed on one side so half of the features were indistinguishable. It was as though, part way, the artist had started drawing an entirely different subject, her hand changing its mind and moving of its own free will. The other half of the face was in light.

"Decided to throw me in at the last minute, I see," Atton said, holding the corner of the page to see it more clearly before letting go.

"Your eyes are really hard to draw, you know? So many layers…" Demi sighed as she added a few more strands of hair to his portrait. "I'm really not an artist. This was sort of a random thing. I'm probably wasting precious, almost-extinct paper."

"And apparently, you memorize how I look," he observed. "You don't need to look at me to draw me? If my eyes are giving you that hard a time, why don't you just look up? They're right here, sister."

"Nope," Demi said, refusing to do so, and not completely understanding herself the next two words she was going to say. "Too hard."

"Come on," Atton wheedled, placing two fingers beneath her chin and drawing her closer to him. "I'm not that bad looking, am I?"

She closed her eyes briefly as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She would not let him get to her lips though, so he relented and just rested his forehead against hers. For a moment they just _were,_ and Demi felt herself slowly gravitating…wanting to feel again…

_What are we, Atton? What are we trying to do?_

Atton gave sort of a sad, soft chuckle before drawing back and Demi reclaimed her pen. "You've got to stop doing that," she muttered, although she wanted nothing more than to give in and just let time go on and on and never stop.

Atton didn't say anything and watched her continue drawing. Watched with growing alarm as she drew a scar down the side of the face of the person in the portrait. Watched as she drew damp hair over the forehead, watched as the eyes received an evil glint, and the person received a smoking cigarra in his fingertips.

"What are you doing?" Atton breathed, not able to move his eyes from the scene unfolding on the paper.

Then a table was drawn, then juma bottles splayed on top of it, drawn from the perspective of somebody seated behind them…

"Stop," Atton said, staring at her. "Stop right there."

Demi just looked at him placidly. _Remember this from your story a few hours ago? That was you, Atton, and that girl was me._

Atton swallowed, his throat feeling dry. "So you mean to say that the first thing I ever said to you, _ever_, was, 'What the f—'"

Demi covered his mouth here—

"'—are you looking at?'"

Demi cocked her head to the side at him, smiling slightly, sadly, knowingly. Her voice sounded strange, even to herself. "Not as creative as Peragus, I'll admit, but it's still up there."

Atton could have slapped himself on the forehead. "Real smooth, Jaq," he muttered to himself. "Real suave. So much for first impressions. But, Demi…" Atton sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "I would have remembered you," he insisted, finally.

"Maybe a small part of you did. We caught each other's eye at a camp during the Wars, although I doubt you remember that. _I_ didn't, except for this dream that brought it all back. On Peragus, I thought something about you was slightly familiar. But I didn't remember fully until now. I think that both of us have been trying to forget those years. It's only now that the memories have been resurfacing. By dreams, questions, events…Either way, I know that was me." Demi sighed. "I don't want to relive that time period ever again. I was so…confused. Even more so then."

"That was after Malachor, right?"

Demi nodded silently. "Right."

Atton breathed in and drew up a chair so his legs could rest on it as well. "Well, this sure changes a few things."

"Not really," Demi disagreed. "I just…I just thought you should know."

"You met…him. You met…" He dragged a hand through his hair like a ragged comb. "Blast it all, Dem! You met Jaq. That's something that never in a million years I wanted to happen."

"You didn't know I was a Jedi. So I really didn't. Meet him, I mean. At least, not the way your…targets seemed to."

"But I was _this_ close to figuring it out. I felt the loss of the Force in you, though back then, I had no idea what the hell it really was. I guess I just have to be thankful for not knowing, or who knows what might have happened."

"Who knows," Demi echoed.

"So we really met back then, didn't we?" Atton said. "Well, if 'meeting' can be considered staring at each other or cussing at each other. But anyway, it was first at the camp—"

"Before we became all messed up—"

"Then at the inn—"

"Where we _were_ messed up—"

"And then finally at Peragus."

"Where I had revived and you were messed up all alone," Demi said in solemn triumph.

"Unfair," Atton said, smiling dimly. "I wasn't the one suffering from an extreme lack of clothing now, was I?"

"You always like to rub that part in," Demi said, resigned. "Anyway…" She smiled, recalling. "You basically witnessed a moment in history, you know. When you saw me there, in the inn I mean, that was the first time I had ever gotten drunk."

"Really." Atton's eyebrows jolted up in surprise. "Just your first?"

Demi rolled her eyes. "Well, I had had a few ales before, during the Wars, to celebrate victories, but never enough to get drunk. Besides, I was a General. And I was so young. I feared that if I screwed up, because of too much ale, I would get mocked behind my back…or something equally stupid. Mostly, I just preferred white chai or some kind of fruit juice and why are you laughing?!"

Atton shook his head, smiling. "I was teasing around, and you took it to an extreme. Anyway. So there hasn't been a second time, has there?"

Demi looked at him strangely. "No. Not yet, anyway. Why?"

Atton just shrugged and looked away, glad that his secret was still kept. And not glad, at the same time.

He jumped slightly when he heard Demi crumple up the drawing of Jaq, packing it in completely. Atton watched as the paper crinkled and tore, Jaq's face disappearing by a crease of paper that went over it. And just like that, he felt more relieved. Demi held it high in the air, about to throw it into the trash bin. "Bet me if I can make it in?"

Atton took a slow, testing sip from a juma he claimed from the table. He exhaled in satisfaction before saying, "I bet you will."

"That's not how it works," Demi said in protest.

"Demi, I've seen you throw things. More than that, actually. I've seen you throw, punch, slap, hit, kick, knee, jump, flip, shoot, strike…I know you can make any target you want. With your eyes closed, even. Being visibly violent has its downsides, you know."

"Then I'll bet the opposite; that I don't make the paper in. You owe me five credits if I'm right." As an afterthought she added, "And I'm not _that_ violent."

Dismissing the last statement, Atton said, "You're going to miss purposely. You owe me five credits if I'm right."

Demi scowled and shook her head. "Here I go," she said softly, and from where she was seated, threw the paper towards the bin.

It arched easily through the air, but fell just short of the trash bin. However, before it hit the ground, an invisible force, like a jolt of a hand, guided the crumpled paper back up and into the bin.

"You cheated," Demi objected, as Atton dropped his outreached hand onto his lap. "You used the Force."

"Scoundrel," Atton said simply, as though the one word explained itself as well as him.

Demi shook her head, smiling to herself.

There was silence for a moment, and then they both looked at each other. It was times like these that made Demi forget everything else around them, and even if it only was one minute or one word, they meant a lot to her. _Somebody should chronicle these,_ she thought, _just in case I ever feel like forgetting things again. Something should be left._ And yes, there was definitely something here. But what?

"Do you think Renee, from that dream, if that was really her, was telling the truth?" Demi inquired.

With that one sentence, everything changed. It was a subtle change, but it changed all the same.

Atton was silent for a few moments before he said carefully, "I wouldn't put it past her, personally. Besides, that explains her disappearance all these years. –Not that I was looking for one. Or her. But she does tell the truth. She speaks her mind and calls 'em as she sees 'em."

"It sounds more like she's opinionated than truthful."

"Could be. Could be. Maybe sometimes they're one and the same."

"You're still going to try and kill her, aren't you?"

He glanced at her once. "Come on, Demi. You heard and saw the dream. I don't have a choice. And personally, it'll be really nice to get her out of my head once and for all."

"Do you think that'll work? Do you think you'll feel anything when you kill her?"

Demi's eyes were passionate and alight, and Atton wasn't sure how she wanted him to respond.

"Just tell me honestly," she answered, hearing this. "Did you love her?"

Atton tapped his fingers on the juma bottle and took his time, taking a thoughtful swig before answering. "I don't think it's that simple, but no. I didn't love her. If I ever did, time, the War, Revan, me, her, screwed it up. Maybe Jaq had loved her, in his own twisted way. Renee…she's complicated. And a real piece of work. But she's not all bad. Once, as Jaq, I caught this sickness. Blood, vomit, all over the place. Exaggerating I am not. And Renee took care of me for days."

He laughed harshly. "I don't even really understand why. We treated each other like dirt most of the time. But I know what she can do, I know what she's capable of. I know of the bodies that she's left behind and how she doesn't give a care at all. You want to know why I think she was causing such a commotion here on Nar Shaddaa? She was looking for Jaq. She made all the noise she could, spilled all the blood she could, because she knew that eventually Jaq would come. And I did, didn't I? I did." He laughed again, and started to take another deep, deep drink, but Demi put her hands over his on the bottle to stop him.

"Let it go," she said seriously, her eyes concerned. Atton didn't know if she meant Renee or Jaq or the bottle or all three. He sighed and relented, and the bottle slipped from his grasp. Demi caught it and put it on the table.

"We came here because we needed to help Brianna," Demi said. "And we are. Jaq and Renee had nothing to do with that decision. You are _not_ him. Okay?" Atton just looked away so Demi sighed and slid from where she was sitting and kneeled on the floor, making sure that he had nowhere else to look but at her. "It's a hard choice to make, Atton," she continued. "And it's not my decision. It's yours. Whichever choice you make in the end though, I want you to know that I'll back you up fully. But…I know it may seem like her death will also be the death of Jaq, but it won't. Killing her will haunt you and your thoughts forever. And you're haunted enough as it is. If you want to get Jaq out of you forever, killing off your memories isn't going to work. It's doing good, kind things that will really redeem you, not killing. And I know I sound like such a preacher right now, but it's true. It'll make you stronger, Atton. It really will."

"Alright," Atton said finally. "Alright."

"You understand what I'm trying to say?"

Atton finally met her eyes. "Yeah. I do. And I'll try my best to do what you want me to do. But it may end up resorting to something we both know is unavoidable."

Demi watched him for a few moments. She knew that she could not stop him from doing what he needed to do; from what he felt he needed to do. But she also knew something else, and that knowledge was strong enough so that she knew she could trust him. That he would do the right thing. And that he could do it on his own.

And then, Demi broke the moment with a yawn. She suppressed a laugh at this, and rubbed her eyes wearily. "Force, what time is it?" she murmured, starting to get up.

"No idea," he replied, getting up himself. "We talked a long time."

"Feels like it." Demi paced a bit, then came back.

_I know you think that Renee doesn't have a weakness. But she does. Her weakness is you, Atton. Just remember that._ She glanced towards the starport dormitory. _I'm pretty tired. I better go._

Atton started to reply, but she was already gone by the time he had decided what he was going to say. He stared after her for a long moment until she disappeared from sight, the corridor hiding her from him all too soon. He sighed, and headed in the opposite direction to his quarters.

The last thing he heard before he dropped his head onto his pillow was Renee's voice. Smooth, taunting, and too true.

_We can never be friends. Now that we've gone this far. We share an attraction. What a charade, Jaq. What a charade…_

And Atton woke up again.

He swept back the covers in one brisk motion, and, still barefoot, got down on the floor and did push-ups. His breath came out ragged but he timed himself well. He could feel his blood pumping in excitement and fear. Muscles that had not felt work during these few idle days felt young again. He then donned his Jedi robes, pulling his arms through the sleeves, and grabbed his lightsaber. Two blasters found their way to the belt at his hip, his laser into one of his boots, extra medpacs were collected, and a dagger hidden.

At the door, he cast his gaze around the dark room, holding his un-activated lightsaber down at his side.

_She knows I'm coming,_ he thought. _She knows._

_And so does Demi._

He had to keep moving. Out of the room, into the main hold, down the ramp, and into the city streets.

_I'm coming._

**::.Somewhere in Nar Shaddaa.::**

Lonely.

She did not know the meaning of the word. She surrounded herself with memories, thoughts, and past moments long gone, and convinced herself that she was not alone, that soon, there would be somebody by her side again. At the same time she wanted to feel that was better off alone, that she could rely on herself. She was tired of following others: Her parents, Revan, her captors, all long gone. And then there was Voren.

They despised each other with every particle of their beings, exchanging sharp words and inferiorities of the other, words meant to hurt. And yet, they needed each other. Thus the cycle of betrayal began.

Pride.

She did not know if she had ever possessed it, but she needed it now, more than ever. The only trait worthy of remembrance that she held was the power to inflict fear. For she was a thing of the dark, who danced among the shadows, unable to make the music stop.

She was a swan; sleek, beautiful, and at times, dangerous. She was Renee.

And she could not let go of the past.

_He hated her. She could feel it, in the way he would not turn his head to look at her, in the way he strode ahead, a fury guiding his steps. The rain fell down all around them, and their surroundings were gray. Droplets of water dripped down her face and clouded her eyes. She had convinced herself that she was not crying._

_They were two figures in black and whatever they had been, it was dying._

"_Jaq," she said now. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She caught up to him and grabbed the wet fabric of his jacket sleeve, near the hand to swing him around "Will you look at me?"_

"_What do you want, Renee?" Jaq demanded. Wet hair fell over his forehead, a gorgeous dark brown. But Renee could not smooth it away from his face. She could not force him to look her in the eye. "Need me to kill someone else for you?"_

_No, Renee wanted to say. I need _you. _"You didn't let me have the last word with them," she said instead. "I wanted them to know how I felt about them my whole life, but instead, Jaq, you killed them before I had the chance to say anything!"_

"_Oh right, poor you!" Jaq exclaimed, and he kept walking. "Poor Renee with a bad childhood and bad parents! Poor Renee who could not get her revenge, instead having to skip her long monologue, as Jaq, beside her, got the job done quickly and cleanly, killing them fast. How long were you planning on making them listen to all of your pain and misery, tied up as they were? After thirty minutes, _I _wanted them to die, and I didn't even know them. After thirty minutes, I'm sure they wouldn't have minded either. They were_ begging_ me to take their life."_

_He adjusted his fingerless gloves, flexing his fingers beneath them. "So where to now, Renee? Got any uncles or aunts you'd like me to get rid of?"_

"_Go to hell!" Renee screamed at him. She covered her ears. She was acting like a child and she knew it, but at this point, she didn't really care. "Just leave me alone! You don't know what I went through, flyboy, even as you walk through where I was born and used to live, even as you meet them yourself. Lie all you want, love, but you still don't know me."_

"_On the contrary, Renee, I know you very well. Well enough, in fact, to know you're freezing your bones off, even through all your shouting. Here." Gruffly, he tore off his jacket and handed it to her._

"_And what am I supposed to do with this?" Renee said through gritted teeth._

"_Wear it," Jaq said simply. "Maybe it will pacify you for a while. I can't get any damn thing done with you complaining to me all the time."_

"_You can take your goddamn jacket and strangle yourself with it," Renee said venomously, even as she shivered and her teeth chattered. "I don't need your charity."_

_Maybe she still has some pride after all._

_The illusion doesn't last long. Jaq just laughed and threw the jacket at her face. Renee caught it in time. "Just wear the thing, Renee," he said. He brought a hand up, and instinctively, Renee jumped back. But he just rested a warm hand on her forehead. "I was right," Jaq sighed. "You caught one of those fevers. Isn't this bloody perfect?"_

_Renee shoved him roughly away. "Hands off, flyboy," she said, her voice coming out in a whisper. _

_Jaq let his hand drop. "Wear it," he repeated in a hard voice, indicating the jacket. He started walking the other way._

_Renee watched him go, holding the jacket in her arms. It was drenched, but warm inside. She slid it on, reveling in his body heat, and as she saw him go, she couldn't help but feel rotten inside._

_I want you, she thought. I want to kill you and hate you and love you as long as I have you._

_She hated herself because of this and did not want to follow him. But eventually, she did._

Now, she was curled up on her small cot, in her hideout. The jacket was still clutched in her hands.

She knew he was coming after her. Wherever he was. He was not Jaq. But Renee could not exist parallel alongside either Atton or Jaq. Only one of them was going to leave this planet alive.

_Bring all you have, flyboy,_ she thought darkly. _You're the weak one now._

She did not ask herself, as she closed her eyes and held the jacket hard in her fists, why she was still holding onto it. It was old, worn, and smelled of rain and dust. Dark and torn, dark and torn. It had been through a lot, just like them. But it was all she had. And so she turned to it and clutched it. A lullaby.

**::.Nausuma.::**

The chamber was filled with the sounds of stifled cries. Anybody could feel the frustration and never ending pain coming from beyond the door that held the prisoner inside. In the dark tower, even the rare comfort of a ray of light that fell through the high, small window was not enough. Elaine pulled and tugged and struggled at her chains in vain. Angry tears fell down her face. Every muscle of her ached, arms hanging above her, legs bound before her.

She hated how she could not feel the Force, not in this prison, not for a long time, and undoubtedly, not for a long time to come. She hated being here, being torn from the Light to the Dark, and how all she was able to do was wait and wait for the next torture to begin.

She did not sleep these days; how could she? She would attempt to close her eyes and rest her head on her arm, but the rattling of a chain, the opening of a door, always prevented her.

And she knew another thing. She had not felt this confined in a long time. What she wouldn't do to break free…But that was what these people wanted, so she suffered in silence. Or tried to.

Now, Elaine clenched her fists and screamed. The infuriating cry sounded unearthly and alien, even to herself, and proved that yes, another few days and she was sure she would go insane. If she wasn't already. The overwhelming sound relented, her lungs and throat giving out, feeling raw.

Elaine looked around with scorn and utter hatred at her surroundings. Red, angry sparks started to burn in her eyes. And she felt that.

_No,_ she thought desperately. _No, girl. Breathe. Just breathe. Try to relax. Don't let it take over. Don't think of anything at all. Don't think…_

The door opened, hinges creaking.

"Another vision?" she said, tilting her head up to greet the person. "I'm afraid we're all booked for today. If you'd like me to make an appointment scheduled for _never_—" She spat out the word "—I'd be damn happy to help you out."

Aleksander chuckled darkly, but did not say a word. He was in his true form now. He kept to the shadows and shut the door behind him.

"So who are you?" Elaine asked. "I can see your shape, but barely. Are you somebody I once committed a bad deed to? Did I kill your family? Are each of them in turn going to visit me as well?" Elaine gave a pained laugh and laid her head back. "You know, it doesn't take long of listening to other people telling you how much they despise you, before you start to drown all the words out. Just a warning. So what do you want from me? Do I even know you?"

"Agitated words from an agitated woman," Aleksander said, his voice deep and he held back so his face was hidden. "The Sith Lord regains her sharp tongue and is blinded to what she knows. But that is only typical. For you do know me. You know me very well, indeed. Or perhaps it is me that knows you."

Elaine's eyes widened. "Your voice…"

"Ah…" Aleksander smiled in satisfaction. "Now you are remembering." As he locked the door, turning the key so the bolts clicked, he continued, "I am the voice that told you to stay away from Nausuma, until you were ready. That was many years ago. I am the face behind all those who have made you suffer, here, in this cell. I am the guardian and keeper of the Ha-meshuns and their holy water, and I am immortal and possess more powers than you will ever know."

"Aleksander," Elaine finished. "That's who you are."

"And evidently, you have learned much on Atris' pitiful planet." Aleksander crept forward, his armor clinking, stepping under the pale light. "But not enough. Not what really matters."

"You are the one I have to warn the Ha-meshuns about," Elaine said, watching his warily. "You and the rest of your Sith."

"So now we have established who I am. But you, Revan. Who are you?"

"I am Elaine," she replied, knuckles tightening over their chains. "And I think there's been enough 'establishing' as there is."

"'Elaine,' you call yourself. A hollow shell, a name you hide behind, just as the old Council, now diminished, bless their poor souls, once did. But what is the person behind this name? And is that even your true name? Who is your rightful family? All of this, I know the answer to."

"Apparently you know everything, so who am I to contradict you?" Elaine said bitterly.

"'Who am I?'" repeated Aleksander. "Such a simple question, yet one that can never fully be explained."

"Are we done with the philosophies and can we got on with the part where I kick your immortal ass to the next planet?"

"That would be light years away." Aleksander chuckled again. "You are regaining Revan's ambitiousness. That is what we need. You grow more like your old self every day and you barely even realize it."

"You don't know who I was or what I will be," Elaine said, not spitefully, but calmly, quietly, stating it as fact. "You don't have the right or authority to tell me what I'm becoming."

"That is true. You are the only one who can, but you realize what you're becoming all the same. You mortals like to live in blissful ignorance, do you not? Even as you stay, imprisoned here. How do you think I know what memories will hurt you the most?"

There was a dense silence for a moment, and Aleksander started pacing around the room. "Even though you spent five years in Anarca, you failed to learn that I had the power to clone people, that I had the power to read you and your motivations, and that I could do this easily and painlessly. It's similar to reading a book, perusing freely through every moment someone else has gone through in their life in just a few seconds. And I can do more than that, as well."

"You think you are a god," Elaine said, her voice cutting through the air, filled with obvious contempt. Her blood boiled and raged in her veins, and she suddenly felt that no matter what, she could not hide.

"It's a simple matter of power," Aleksander proclaimed. "Who has it and who doesn't. Who has more and who knows how to use it."

"And I suppose you do?" Elaine said sharply. "Is this—" She tugged at the bonds that held her—"doing the right thing? Is this…_power?_"

"You are forgetting the time when your own Assassins did the same thing; you forget how effective it was. You are a daughter of darkness, no matter how much you try to deny it, to turn your head from it. However, none of that matters now…" Aleksander knelt in front of her, the tip of the sword at his belt touching the ground, scraping the stone. His dark hair grew like a thick mane over his shoulder. "Not until I have you by my side…"

And then Elaine could see his eyes, and a jolt sped through her spine. He had violet eyes—with red sparks. Aleksander hissed his next word. "_Granddaughter._"

"No," Elaine breathed. Refusing to believe…Eyes wide…

And then the world went black, black as night. But colder.

* * *

A/N: Man, at this rate, everybody's going to be related! LoL! But don't worry. I won't go crazy with that. Poor Elaine…I hope you NEVER have a gramps like Aleksander. This chapter was mostly just people talking, but I needed to set the foundation for some things. The next one is going to be a bit more exciting. Hope you stick around! 


	28. 27: Fools Rush In

**Chapter 27 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Fools Rush In

_**H**__ush. Quiet._

_Don't make too much noise. Don't try to move. Don't let your voice echo. _

Thinking this, Elaine closed her eyes and opened her mind, trying to find a weakness, a hole in this place where she could dig through. Without her Force to guide her, it was a much harder task, and she felt beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Speaking of which, how many days had she been here, chained up as she was? She thought longingly of bubble baths on Coruscant, the scented oils, candles…Her eyes opened. Stop it, she told herself sternly. Focus.

At first, there seemed to be no weakness. Until she sensed a barrier. It could not be seen, but could be felt. And there was some sort of rift, a transparent page, something that could be pulled off with great effort…Using what little remains of energy she had left, she closed her eyes again, and tried to root herself, trying to find her center so she could be reconnected to her Force…

There.

Just barely. She did not have much time. Like sand falling through an hourglass, she knew she had seconds at most to do what she needed to do.

A console fell from her pocket.

She directed it to stand upright, which it did. The record button was pressed of its own accord.

Elaine took a deep breath and started.

"This is Elaine," she said in a hoarse whisper. She cleared her throat to start again, hoping the sound receptors would be able to pick up her voice. "This is me," she said, her voice clearer now. "I don't have much time to explain where I am or what I've been doing or how I got here or why the Force I'm even here in the first place…And I know that I'm going to be contradicting myself, but…"

She gathered herself up as best she could, with what little dignity she had left, and looked the console straight-on. "I need all of you here. I don't have time to explain, like I said. The hospitality here is horrible to say the least. No, that was a bad joke."

Elaine closed her eyes and exhaled, and started again. Don't blow it, Elaine, she thought. This may be your only chance.

"A war is coming," she said finally, and her eyes glowed as she said that. "We all know this. And as much as I've tried to deny this, I cannot do it alone. I will need you all beside me. I don't know much about the defenses here, but I do know that to get through the Shift you're going to need somebody who was once one with the Dark, but has now turned to the Light. And you're going to need the coordinates. They are locked in the communications room aboard our ship. The password is…"

She closed her eyes again. Trying to remember…Oh. Of course.

"'Ian Pace, I will come back.'" Opening her eyes again, pigments of red and violet shone in her eyes. "It is voice activated; you will need HK to get it for you. And when you get here, search for Aleksander. He will lead you to me. That is all. I…I know I cannot make you come after me. After all I've done to make sure that you didn't…There are no words to—"

Then, she heard the sound of somebody heading down the hall outside, and inhaled sharply. And though she tried to hide it, her eyes shone in fear.

"I have to go," she whispered. "Again. I'm so sorry."

And the recording stopped.

Far away, the message was transmitted to a holovid program on Coruscant. The bookkeeper saw the encryption with delicate puzzlement etched on his features. This new arrival was untraceable concerning the sender and its origins. All he was able to read was 'To The Lost Jedi and Their Admiral, From the One Who Drinks Too Much Caffa.'

And he decided to let Jedi Master Bastila Shan handle it.

::.**Coruscant**.::

"There it is."

Bastila slid the holovid across the long table to Carth, so he could see it for himself.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

Carth looked at it, watched the holovid sway on the brink of the desk before starting to fall on the floor, but he stopped it before it could do so, so it came to a rest at the edge of the table. The image of Elaine in chains, bound in some tower, still lingered in his mind.

His brown eyes were troubled and defiant all at once. He straightened himself in his chair, dropping the fist that had been propped beneath his chin.

"It's a scam," he said decisively.

"Forgive me, Admiral," interceded Mical, from a chair at the other side of the room. "But how can it be a scam? It _was_ Elaine. And her telling us that she needs help cannot be a scam at all. She is trying to topple a Sith empire all by herself, one that has been around undoubtedly for thousands of years. From my point of view, doing this seems like the only realistic thing. And it can't have been easy to send that message."

"She wanted us to stay behind; she made that very clear," Carth said, his voice firm. "Why the sudden change of mind?"

"Force, Carth!" Bastila stormed down the room towards him. "You are determined to remove every sign that gives you a chance to go after her! She needs us. _She needs us,_ Carth. Why is that so hard to believe? Isn't this what you want?"

"Isn't this what I want?" repeated Carth, and he laughed a harsh, dry laugh that made Bastila and Mical flinch. "Right, Bastila, this is really the way that I had imagined everything to turn out! That the woman _I loved_ would be doing her duty, saving the galaxy, removing the last remnants of Sith on a distant planet, being torn between life and death, light and dark, with each moment hanging in the balance."

Carth suddenly pushed his chair back and stood up. "But you see, that's not really the thing that's bothering me. What's bothering me is the fact that I have to stay behind, like she told me to, like I promised her. That I can't be at her side while she goes through whatever the hell it is that she's going through. And now, this holovid finds its way to us! It dismisses everything that I've had to do these past five years, and that's not the part that bothers me either! What bothers me is, why is she just figuring out that she needed us _now?! _Why didn't all of this start out this way before? Because if it had, Bastila, then I wouldn't be standing here. I'd be there, with her, and I'd understand what she was going through. I'd be able to protect her, I'd be there to remind her of what she was fighting for, and I'd just _be there_ because I would do anything in the galaxy for her, even wait for her. Which is the most painful of them all."

"But you don't have to wait anymore, Carth!" Bastila exclaimed shrilly. "Weren't you listening to her message? She gave us direction, she gave us her permission, something you seem to be so fond of. And there is _nothing_ stopping you from doing what you need to do."

"There is, Bastila," Mical said quietly, looking at Carth in a strange new light, realizing that he and the Admiral had something in common. "Himself."

Bastila stared at Mical, then at Carth, who had turned to the wall, looking away. And a realization dawned on her. "You think she's turned," she said slowly. "You think there's a chance she's turned to the Dark Side, and that now she can never come back. Is this correct?"

There was silence from Carth's end of the room.

Bastila shook her head in disbelief, eyes wide. "I don't believe this, Carth. You are the one that she needs by her side most, and you're just brushing this away, like you can't see what pain she's in."

"Damn it all, Bastila!" Carth hollered angrily. "I'm not blind and I'm not deaf, and I know that she's been in pain way before any of this even happened. I have faith in her, that she'd be able to withstand whatever test they throw at her. But I can't be sure of anything anymore; do you understand? Just a few days ago, I learned that she had a son!" He let the words sink in for a moment, knowing full well that neither of them in the room had heard this information before. "After all that I had shared with her, about my past, my son, my wife, my planet, she had never told me this. Blame it on the memory loss, whatever you want. It hit me hard, learning that the father was one of our many mortal enemies, and that the son was somebody who I had had by my side ever since her disappearance. I should have realized something because of the convenient timing. But I didn't. And timing! Now, see there's another thing!"

"Carth," Bastila said warningly. "Control yourself."

"No, Bastila!" Carth exclaimed. "Controlling myself is _exactly_ what I've been doing these past five fracking years and there comes a certain point when the extent of what I can carry becomes too much. I'm sure that all of us know the feeling."

"There seems to be a lot that you want to tell her," Bastila replied placidly, but her eyes showed sympathy and frustration all in one. "But if you don't agree with me now that we have no choice but to go after her, then you are never going to receive that chance. You've seen the holovid, Carth. We both know she's strong, but just like there is an extent to what we can carry, there is also an extent of what we can go through."

"And she needs us there to help her carry the burden. To help her in our mission," Mical said humbly, seriously. "I will do my best to aid. You can count on that."

"When she left," Bastila said to Carth, who was still looking at Mical in mingled disbelief and uncertainty, and slowly moved his gaze back to her, "you were not sure that she would ever come back. But there is proof that she is still alive and we can do something to make sure that it stays that way."

Carth shook his head and sighed, but it was in defeat not opposition. "I'm not—I'm not hesitating like this because of a petty grudge or because of being a coward. I hope you know that." He hung his head. "If this had happened earlier, the first thing I would have done was hijack the first ship that came patrolling nearby, and I would have flown after her, even if it was into certain death. Which this probably still is. It's just…"

"You're doing the right thing, Carth," Bastila said, her voice comforting. "And you're not going to be the only one going after her, you know."

"I think Carth needs time alone, Bastila," Mical said, standing up. "And we need to make preparations."

"You are right," Bastila breathed, still looking at Carth concernedly. "I'll get two ships for all of us and I'll ask Bao-Dur to contact Demi and get the information we need." She stood close to Carth's shoulder. "Are you sure you're going to be all right?"

"You went to the Dark Side before," Carth said suddenly. "And she helped you turn back. There is still hope that we can do the same for her, isn't there?"

"Carth, you don't know that she's—"

"Tell me," Carth said, voice hard, "that there is."

"You've got to stop thinking in this mindset—"

"Bastila—" Carth said warningly.

"You're putting too much pressure on her!" Mical said, his voice commanding, but then he stopped, and did a slight bow. "I'm sorry, Admiral. I know I'm a Jedi Master now, but I can't forget the time when I worked for you. But I do believe that these are your own doubts and fears, which we all have. You're going to have to try to quench your own without putting the blame on others."

"Jedi," Carth sighed. "But you're right. You've come a long way, Mical."

"It's mostly because of another Jedi, who is at this moment going after the person we're all talking about right now. And I'm worried for her too. Unlike you, I've never had to wait for her, not in the way you have, because my wait is one that I know will never come to an end. Consider yourself lucky in that aspect. I, ah…Right now I have to go." Mical nodded to Bastila, exited the room and disappeared.

It was just Carth and Bastila, the latter who headed to the door as well. She paused before leaving, seeing Carth eyeing the holovid on the table with a mixed expression. "Only watch it one more time," she said to him, her blue eyes luckily shadowed or else the sadness in them would have been revealed. "Then destroy it. We know everything we need to know and before showing it to you I had already recorded Elaine saying the password, although since we don't have the ship we'll have to count on HK to unlock the coordinates. Anyway, you better get ready. I have to go alert the others about this new event."

Carth merely nodded, and Bastila paused, about to say something, but abruptly, she stopped herself, and swept out the door.

Carth stared at the unactivated holovid on the conference table, but did not move. Soon the overhead lights switched off of their own accord because of the lack of movement, and Carth was left once more in the dark.

**::.Nar Shaddaa.::**

_The Dancing Gypsy_ was still open at this time, and although the sun would be rising in a few hours, it seemed to Atton as he headed closer that darkness was transcending. A glowing neon sign emblazoned with red colors and the name of the cantina called like a beacon to those in this city that never slept.

A bouncer at the door roughly prodded and felt around the pockets of the person who was in front of him in line, before letting her go, pushing her inside. Atton could already hear the blazing music.

"You don't want to lay a finger on me," Atton told the bouncer, vengefully and slightly calmly, as he came up, using Force behind his words. He left the bouncer feeling dazed and did not look back.

Atton stepped deeper inside and blended into the darkness in the back of the room, slowly walking around its perimeter. And he saw her instantly.

The center floor was full of people dancing, arms up in the air, moving to a fast tempo, so close there was almost no space to breathe. Together they seemed like shadows or flames; the flashing lights above made the brief dark moments in between feel strange and surreal. One flash of a light, and she was on the other edge of the room, dancing close to another male dancer but not enough so that their skin was touching. Another and she was back in the center, brown, curly hair flying, hips swaying, each movement alluring and bewitching. And the male dancer was behind her again, and Atton knew exactly what he was thinking.

He strode over to a nearby wall, expression detached, unlocked the panel, and flicked off several switches all at once.

Immediately, the power closed down. Music halted mid-song to many groans, the few remaining lights that had been on turned off, and water sprinkled from the ceiling one nozzle after another, even though there was no fire in sight.

People stampeded to the door, most of them young and looking for a last bit of fun that obviously could not be found here any longer. The bartender was nowhere to be seen. The heavy door slammed shut behind the last to leave. Pipes dripped above them and the water on the floor slowed and lengthened their steps.

Atton turned off the water and emerged from his place by the door to step up to Renee, who stood in the center, exactly where she had been earlier. The lights flickered overhead and two of them came back on, casting an eerie white light onto both of them. It was just Renee and Atton now—alone and face to face, finally, after all these years.

"Aw, gee, Jaq," Renee said lightly. Her hair was drenched and straight now, and she stood still, all in black, waiting for him. "Our own little empty cantina, music, lights…You didn't have to do all this for me. If you wanted me alone, all you had to do was ask."

"We need to talk," Atton said, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

Renee cocked her head to one side and sized him up. "The four words nobody ever wants to hear. So talk. Nothing's stopping you."

Atton had not been expecting this answer. In fact, he had been expecting every single dagger on the planet of every shape and size to come flying at him the minute he had stepped inside. And then he realized that he did not know what to say, because he had never planned to say anything at all.

"A little stuck there, flyboy?" Renee said for him. "Well, after a few years, conversation wasn't our biggest strength, so it's understandable. How about I help you out?"

She walked over to the bar and held up a glass of something at eye level, now filled to the brim with water, and inspected him through it. "You came here because you either wanted to do something or say something, and since right now you're doing neither, I'm starting to think that all you wanted to do was crash my party. Maybe you don't know this, Jaq, but I didn't inherit a damn thing, not even this cantina, from my parents. There's not a single person running or owning this place right now, but as long as it's open and there's music, nobody seems to care, do they?"

Renee threw the glass at the wall behind the bar, and turned back to Jaq agitatedly. Shards of glass and specks of water smashed against the wall hard and leaked down to the floor. "Damn it, Jaq, what do you want from me?" she exclaimed. "Do you want answers? Then ask. Are you here to kill me? Then go ahead and try. Or maybe you're just here to screw behind Demi's back—that is her name, isn't it?—but I'm fracking tired so you better make some kind of a move soon because I'm not here to do it for you."

"I'm here to tie up a loose end," Atton said. "And that would be you."

"I'm a loose end now, am I?" Renee replied, looking at her fingernails in disinterest. "That's strange. I thought you were."

"What are you doing in Nar Shaddaa, Renee?" he said, cutting over her.

Renee looked up and laughed in disbelief. "This is it?" She kicked aside a stool and stalked up to him. "You came all the way to this goddamn, run-down, filthy cantina so you could make small talk with me? You must have fallen farther than I had originally thought."

"Who's sending the dreams?" Atton demanded.

"Dreams?" Renee said in genuine surprise, forehead crinkling in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about, Jaq."

Atton laughed. "Don't even try lying," he said venomously. "You want to play games? Then let's play games. Give me one reason why I shouldn't just disregard what Demi said and kill you right here, right now."

"Kill me?" Renee repeated, a smile growing on her lips. "Now, see, this, Jaq, is finally getting interesting."

In a flash, a dart flew from her sleeve and Atton dislodged his lightsaber from his belt, igniting it and slicing it though the air and the dart simultaneously before it could reach him. But a second one flew out at the same time and pierced Atton right in the shoulder. Blood spilled over his Jedi robes. With effort, he pulled it out and threw it on the floor with distaste.

"I see you haven't lost your fondness for those things," Atton remarked.

"And I see something else myself. You come here all 'Jedified,' thinking that that makes you stronger than me, that now, you can finally defeat me. Do you remember the arena back at the Academy? The first day we met each other?" She chuckled darkly, and they started circling each other. "Sixty seconds to go, no points for either Rand or Lunecaster. Who will win this time, I wonder? I beat you bad that day, Jaq. You were tougher than Mars, but that doesn't really count for anything, does it? What a spineless bastard he was. You said so yourself."

"Leave out the spineless part and you've got it about right." His lightsaber buzzed impatiently. "But this isn't about Mars."

"No, it isn't, is it?" Renee said. "So why don't you just throw that lightsaber through me from where you stand right now and do the galaxy a favor?" She showed her empty hands. "I don't have anymore weapons." She smiled grimly and walked within a foot of him. "Except maybe one. You're making me wonder, Jaq, what you're really here for. You could have tried to kill me already, yet here we are."

She stepped in closer, and her voice grew softer. "It used to be us against the world, Jaq," Renee whispered, not an inch from his ear. He could feel her hot breath on his skin. She was close. Much too close. "Can you remember that feeling?"

"Don't remind me," Atton snarled, pulling away. "You couldn't have me when I was Jaq and you can't have me now either."

"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself, Jaq. Are you scared that what we had might actually mean something more than…_whatever_ it is you have with the little blonde?"

In a flash, Atton brought his left fist back and threw a punch at her face, fury and untold vengeance behind it. Renee turned away, the blow hitting her hard, before returning with a side kick to his stomach. It choked the wind out of him, but he grabbed her ankle and tripped her so she did a horizontal spin in the air before falling in a heap to the floor.

Renee got up easily. "One point for Rand," she said, and laughed as she started circling around him. "Talking about her must be a sore spot for you, am I right, Jaq? Things can't be going well then."

Atton shoved her against the bar so she slammed against it, and brought his lightsaber crashing down just a few seconds too late. Renee jumped and rolled to the opposite side of the bar and retrieved something from behind it.

When she came back up, she was holding a repeater.

With one eye closed and carefully trained on her target, she started shooting. Bolts ricocheted and glasses exploded all around her. Atton used his lightsaber and deflected each one that came soaring towards him, succeeding in hitting some back at her, all of which she dodged. She crouched out of sight and started crawling. Atton propelled his lightsaber toward her. It disappeared behind the bar and when it came looping back to him, everything was silent.

Was it really over? Had his shot hit its mark?

Carefully, he came around the bend, but out of nowhere a kick rammed against the hilt of his lightsaber and dislodged it from his hand. The lightsaber rolled several feet away.

"Could you telegraph your movements more?" Renee wanted to know.

Immediately after, she punched him two times, fast and snappy as lightning, and brought down a foot on the back of his neck and pressed down hard. Atton groaned and lifted her up, throwing her against the top of the bar's counter which she slid across, sweeping the remaining glasses along with her, and fell down at the opposite side.

"Oh, by the way," Renee said conversationally, as though she hadn't just been thrown across the room. Small shards of glass littered her jacket and twinkled under the dim lights. She got to one knee and slowly got up as she continued, "Remember the twi'lek? Lena, I think she called herself. I killed her, Jaq. She barely even put up any resistance. It was like she knew she had nothing else to live for, and was just waiting for someone like me to come along and finish her off. That's how pathetic she was, Jaq."

Atton worked his way back to the other side of the room after retrieving his lightsaber, and Renee took a few steps back, but it was not out of fear. "And do you remember Eres III? When you heard what had happened to your old planet that day at camp, you came to my tent. I let you have your way with me because you were so needy, so dependent, so unable to solve anything by yourself. And the reason that I'm bringing all this up, Jaq, is because—" Here she started laughing again —"it's just so goddamn funny to see you get angry. Can you even see your expression right now?"

Atton's response was to bring his lightsaber swinging down upon her again and again, all of which she was able to dodge and jump and duck in turn. Frustrated, he brought his hand towards her and used the Force to push her back. She rolled on her shoulder to cushion her fall and got back to her feet.

"Oh, no, you don't," Renee said, threateningly. "You don't use those new powers on me. I don't want that weakness even _touching_ me."

"We may have been involved, long ago, once upon a time," Atton said, circling around her. "But I want you to know that I never loved you. Not even for a moment."

"Force!" Renee faked hurt and surprise. "That hurt!" She laughed. "Maybe you've been stuck in your little fantasy for too long, loverboy, so I'll spell it out for you. Maybe your feeling of hate for me was mutual. You ever think about that? I think we were pretending to feel something the whole damn time. It was just fun and games, Jaq. Fun and games." Her voice grew more taunting. "And you know why I despise you, Jaq? Because you're beneath me. And you always were. So…Sorry!" She laughed hollowly. "That little confession of yours didn't hurt _at all_."

"And imagine, through all this, Demi still wants to help you." Atton's eyes slanted in distrust. "Can't imagine why."

"So, what? You're here to finish off the job? You think that, in killing me, you'll be getting rid of your dark past, once and for all?" Renee leaned in close to his ear. "Let me tell you something, Jaq. You can't. Not like this. You've become weak. That little Jedi has poisoned you!

"And here's another thing, Jaq. Why don't you put away your lightsaber and fight me person to person, fair all around, and let's see if, giving you that advantage, you'd finally have it within yourself to beat me." There was quiet for a moment. "How about it?" Renee smiled. "Are you up for the challenge?"

In one brusque movement, Atton deposited his lightsaber back to his belt. Renee lunged in and Atton blocked her strike, but she had feinted him and the real punch reeled him backwards. He fell and Renee did another lightning kick fast. Atton grabbed her leg, and tripped her so she fell on the floor too. Renee kicked him hard in the face as he struggled to get up.

"Come on, now!" Renee whispered. "Where's the dirty fighting, huh? This all you got? For a second I thought we were gonna play hardball! Where's Jaq? What has the little Jedi done to you?"

"Her name," Atton growled, blood on his face, "is Demi. And my name," he pushed her up against the wall, "is Atton!"

He tightened his grip around her neck.

Renee was smiling knowingly, triumphantly. "That's my boy," she choked out. "I knew Jaq was in there somewhere."

Flashbacks of Elle dying, suffocating, by Atton's own hand flashed in his mind. _No…I'm not doing this again,_ he thought.

He dropped Renee roughly so she fell in a heap to the floor, and turned around to walk out of the empty cantina.

"That's it, Jaq! Run away!" she yelled after him. "You know you can't! You know that eventually, the darkness you've been trying to escape is going to take over you. It's in you even now, and the only thing that's stopping it is Demi! That darkness is powerful, Jaq. I don't even know why you're trying to prevent it."

Atton stopped. "You honestly want to know why, Renee?" He whirled around to face her.

"Why?" Renee demanded.

"Because you, all of it…It's beneath me. That's why."

And Atton left.

Renee held up a hidden blaster pistol after him, even as the door slammed shut, water touching her bottom lip and soaking through her clothes. Weakly, she shuddered and set down the weapon. _We could have both killed each other,_ she thought. _But we both held back._ She looked up, her emerald eyes flashing. _Not anymore, Jaq. Not anymore._

**::.Nausuma.::**

"Untie me," Elaine commanded of the Sith servant who hurried to obey.

At the last click of freedom, Elaine stood up and stretched freely. "Much better," she murmured, and picked up the holo recorder from the floor. She handed the recorder to the Sith servant. "Put it away," she instructed. "We may need this trinket for later."

The dark servant bowed beneath his hood and exited. After a few moments of lingering in the tower, reminiscing of her earlier moments here, Elaine followed. She made her way down the stone halls with their torches and entered the room where the real prisoner was.

The dark-haired female was bound and gagged, violet eyes furious and wide.

Aleksander morphed back into his true form and turned to his victim. Violently, he ripped the gag from Elaine's mouth.

"What," she said through gritted teeth, as soon as she could speak, "did you _do?_"

Aleksander just laughed. "Was my acting convincing enough, do you suppose? Do you think your precious pilot bought the pitiful eyes and tired voice?" With one hand, he threw the duplicate 'trinket' up and down, catching it, throwing it, and catching it again.

"You bastard," Elaine hissed.

"Ah, but a crafty and intelligent one I am. I will have the whole Jedi Order, the Mandalorian leader, the Republic Admiral, the famous General, and the powerful Revan all under my influence. All of which is something you have tried your very best to prevent. Without their leaders, the galaxy will erupt into turmoil."

"They could elect new ones," Elaine said, but even she sounded afraid. "And do you honestly think removing the Mandalorian chief from his own clan will not stop them from hunting you down? You may not possess much fear, _Aleksander,_ but I would be scared for your Sith and the well-fare of this whole planet."

"The Sith who work for me are important, yes," Aleksander agreed, but he sounded anything but sincere. "But in the overall web of things, they are nothing but the bait. As are you. As for the Mandalorians, I will personally make sure their arrival does not happen. Their race has long since exceeded their time, anyhow." He headed over to the panel, to bring up another vision and environment that would paint the tower's walls, but stopped.

"I wonder," he said softly, "if Admiral Onasi or any of your so-called friends and comrades will be able to tell the difference. Wouldn't that be the ultimate disappointment, Revan? If they could not distinguish _me_ from the real you. And he is the man who declared he loved you." Aleksander shook his head and chuckled darkly. "You will find, that in the end, they mean nothing to you. And in the end, perhaps they will decide that you are not worth the risk. We will have to see."

He waved a hand over the panel and holographic symbols rose up from his fingertips and palm once again. A past memory surrounded Elaine, like a never-ending holovid. "Learn the truth about your origins, Revan," Aleksander said, his voice strong. "Not the lies the Republic fed you. For now, we watch and we listen and we wait."

Elaine could do nothing but exactly that. And, not for the last time, she was forced to question who she really was.

**::.Nar Shaddaa.::**

Demi wasn't sure where to start. Once she was down the ramp of the _Ebon Hawk,_ the possibilities of where to look seemed endless. The only thought she had been able to extract from Atton was 'cantina.'

"That's a real bloody help," Demi muttered, trying unsuccessfully to tie her shoulder-length, white-blonde hair up. Her fingers were unsteady, either because of the light breeze that swept her hair away before she could control it, or because it was around four in the morning and on a normal day she would be fast asleep. She _felt_ half-asleep. "Thank you very much, Atton," she continued, striding along a walkway near the railing, hands in her pockets. "There's only about five hundred cantinas in this district."

But deep inside, Demi knew it was her fault. So she had set off, leaving only a note for Leo on the table in the main hold. There was nobody around at this time, which was understandable and puzzling all at once. She would have felt more comfortable if there were at least a few people wandering the streets like she was. Now, it felt like everybody's eyes were upon her, watching her. At least the weight of her double-bladed, silver lightsaber hanging around her waist felt reassuring.

Around a corner she went, and far off into the distance she saw him.

He was walking towards her as well, the only other person in sight, and it seemed like once he had seen her, he quickened his steps. His Jedi robes billowed out behind him and his brown hair fell just so. He walked with a _purpose_ and Demi could tell that whatever had happened, something had changed.

They met in the middle and stopped within two feet of each other.

"I was looking for you," Demi heard herself saying, just as Atton said, "So here's the thing—"

They both stopped abruptly and looked at each other.

"You're bleeding," Demi said suddenly.

"What?" Atton carelessly reached towards his arm, where Renee's dart had pierced through his skin. "Oh. It's…nothing. Just a little special, customized gift from Renee. Blood comes with the package as always, you know. But that doesn't really matter…not now."

"Oh, geez, Atton," Demi said, rolling her eyes, and pulling him over to her. She lifted a hand and hovered it over his arm, using the Force to heal the deep, punctured wound. "Of course it matters. I…" Realizing she was still holding his hand, she dropped it rather roughly and continued. "I was on my way to try to find you. I knew you were going to see her, I just thought maybe you and Renee needed to work things out on your own. Looks like it didn't turn out that well, did it?"

"And you were expecting anything else?"

He turned and faced the railing, one hand in his pockets. The light breeze rustled through his hair and he let out a small sigh.

"What happened?" Demi said softly, stepping closer to him.

"The usual," Atton replied shortly. "We left the place in wrecks. Glass everywhere; the building was practically flooded…but there's been worse."

Demi contemplated him in his somber state for a few moments before a wicked smile came on her face.

"Hey, watch," she said.

Atton turned to her, and so she took out her lightsaber and placed it on the railing.

"No offense," Atton started to say, "but I don't think that's exactly the best spot for–"

Then, the lightsaber stood up straight and lifted three inches above the railing. Demi smiled as she controlled the lightsaber with her mind. Silver lights emitted from each end in turn, as the lightsaber did a sort of cart-wheel along the railing. Sparks shone in the air and seemed to blend into one full silver circle, as it flipped and rolled along.

Demi turned to see the expression upon his face. Luckily, it was a good one, one of reluctant amusement.

"That's…that's pretty nice. Been practicing that lately?" he asked.

"No. I just sort of…winged it, right now." The lights from each end deactivated and the lightsaber found its way to her belt again. "I don't like seeing you like this, that's all. I mean, I know we're not exactly on the winning side of the dejarik board, but…" Demi crossed her arms and sighed. "We've just go to keep going, you know?"

Wordlessly, Atton held out his lightsaber by its hilt in front of him and let go. The Force supported it upwards, where it flew to the railing, activated its yellow crystal, and bounced all around. Demi laughed and soon her own lightsaber joined his and they both just watched for a few dazing moments, the simple dance displayed out before them. The lightsabers turned and swirled around each other in flashes of gold and silver.

After a while, they both reclaimed their lightsabers.

"You learn fast," Demi observed.

"Really?" Atton said, glancing sideways at her. "I didn't know this was a lesson."

Demi felt the corners of her mouth turn up, then looked around the street. "We should head back."

"That sounds about right." And, _Thanks, Demi. I don't know why dancing pieces of metal can make someone happier, but it sort of did._

_Like therapy?_

Atton chuckled. _Well, I dunno about that, but…You know what I mean._

Demi put both hands back in her pockets and jerked her head gently towards the direction of the ship, and Atton nodded.

As they turned a corner, Atton stopped in his tracks.

"Demi, wait."

Demi turned around. "Yeah?"

"Just tell me the truth on this, will you?"

Demi slowly faced towards him again. She wasn't sure why, but her heart started beating a bit faster. "Sure. What's wrong?"

Atton sighed and ran a hand through his hair uncertainly. "I want to know your perspective on all of this."

"On all of what?"

"On all of–" He waved his arms wildly around "—this! Whatever the hell _this_ is, I want you for once to tell me how you really feel. I mean, sometimes I get this feeling like maybe I'm _not_ the only one going completely insane on this end, that I'm not the only one who actually _feels_ something, and then something happens that makes me think otherwise." He took a few strides toward her and lowered his voice. "Demi, come on. We can't stay like this forever."

"What are you—" Demi swallowed and went on. "What are you suggesting?"

"That we become what we know is inevitable, what we know is going to happen eventually."

Demi stepped back and took a look at him, the whole package. A frustrated passion lay behind his words, his eyes alight and fearful…and hopeful. Suddenly the phrase, 'You have the right to remain silent; whatever you say may and will be used against you,' popped into her head.

"Atton…" she began.

"Look, I know I sound like some—Well, I don't know what I sound like; probably some half-assed, pompous, random guy who's so sure of himself; but the truth is that I'm not right now, and I need to know, I _need_ to know the answer to this. It's not going to solve it on its own, no matter how much we try to pretend that it isn't there. And for once, everything else, Revan, promises, the galaxy, life, and death…leave all that out of the equation.—For once, make it just about _you and me_. Nobody else."

"Are you so sure about that?" Demi said, her voice quavering. "Is that really what you want?"

Atton just stared at her for a few moments, breathing hard.

Finally, Demi moved, and began to speak. "I've never," Demi began, her voice so soft Atton could barely hear it, "—I've never been good at explaining how I felt. And I doubt you'd understand, anyway."

"Try me," Atton said seriously, not moving any closer but not inching away either. His heart was pounding hard in his chest.

"What do you want me to say?" Demi said, still quietly.

_Whatever it is you're not saying._

Demi nodded. That made sense.

She closed her eyes for a moment, wondering many things all at once. _Just say something, Demi,_ she thought. _Just—_

"It doesn't have to be so hard, you know," Atton said in an undertone.

Demi opened her eyes. "You're not exactly making it easy."

Atton sighed aggravatedly. "I'm trying my best, all right? Usually, I don't even feel like talking things out, as I'm sure you've noticed, but there's been a lot of it going around lately, and if this is what it takes, then I'll go for it." His voice softened. "I don't need some kind of term paper from you, Demi. I just need the truth."

"As if the truth is any easier," Demi said bitterly. "If anything, it's more complicated."

"Well, that's just the way things are! Why can't you just—" He shook his head and stopped himself, running his hands through his hair, unable to contain his anger and frustration. He turned away for a moment before facing her again. "You know what your problem is, Demi?"

"What?" Demi demanded. "What exactly is my problem, Atton? Since you seem to know me so well!"

"The fact that you keep running and running away from what you know is going to happen eventually."

"What's going to happen," Demi said desperately, "is us driving each other mad! A while ago we were getting along fine, and look at us now! Bickering like some old married couple."

"Well, if we are," Atton insisted, "it's some kind of sign!"

Demi gave a disbelieving laugh and shook her head. "No. No, Atton. We've gone over this before. It couldn't possibly…happen."

"Then what was the thing that happened back at Central Port? Was that to help the galaxy? Was that to save Revan?"

It hurt to look in his eyes, so she turned away. "It's never going to work."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

It was quiet for a moment between them.

"What are you trying to say, Dem?" Atton said finally, breaking the awful silence that had fallen like a curse upon them. "You don't care for me at all? Not even one, twisted, little part of you needs me? And I'm not talking about piloting the ship. You know that."

Silently, Demi looked over Nar Shaddaa.

"I don't…know. Anything at all. When I'm with you, I mean. You have no idea how confusing you really are. Or maybe, as you said, it's also me." She half-laughed. "It—it probably is."

Atton joined her at the railing, letting her go on.

"And I hate…" Demi swallowed, struggling. "I hate how you can make me feel…things. I've never in my whole life—" She broke off, laughing harshly. "Damn it. What am I trying to say? I sound ridiculous." She sighed, a tear coursing its way down her cheek. She brushed it away restlessly. "You don't understand, Atton. The way I've been brought up, the things I've had to do. I'm not allowed anything. And then you come in. At first, I just thought you were…Well, the definition isn't entirely flattering so I'll just leave that there. But you weren't. And then I thought that maybe I was just feeling lust…or something. But learning more about your past and every other little thing you kept hidden just like the rest of us made me wonder…It made me think twice. I realized there was so much more to you and so much more to know…That I didn't. Know, I mean."

She glanced at him, not sure how to say the words she wanted to say.

Atton just nodded, wanting to understand. Knowing now that once the initial wall was broken, the feelings would eventually spill out. All she needed was a bit of prodding in the direction she needed to go.

"And…it's not just fun and games anymore. It's not just a little bit of back-and-forth between us. It's reality. And I hate that I'm scared. I hate that this is all new and I'm just not prepared for it. There is no _strategy_ I can concoct like during the Wars, it's a whole new—territory, I guess I should say. I hate how I'm not even sure what I really want, or what you want. And I just…I hate it," she finished.

"That's life, Demi," Atton said. "Not being prepared. You don't have to be scared. You don't have to be anything at all." He looked straight at her. "I guess I know now where I stand."

Demi's eyes conveyed shock and confusion. "And where is that?"

Atton started walking away, backwards, hands in pockets. "Away. Far, far away. Ever since I've gotten here it's like you've been wanting to get rid of me."

"That's not true," Demi said softly. "You know that."

"Do I? Should I count the bruises, Demi? I've gotten kneed, slapped, kicked in the shins. You can't be telling me that's some sign of affection. Love hurts, Dem, but it shouldn't be literal."

"Shut up," Demi whispered softly, but her eyes glittered. "This isn't a joke."

"I know that. Probably better than you, actually. The fact is that me, here with you, that's the last place you possibly want me to be. Maybe I've just been kidding myself that I'm actually useful, that I wasn't just some thorn in your side as you went off to find Revan. With me gone, Renee will get off your back. She doesn't care about you; it's Jaq she wants. And I'm sure you'll find some other former-Dark sider to get you into the special planet's atmosphere. There's plenty of 'em walking around. So you can get through all of it. Without me."

He meant it. Atton turned around and kept walking. Usually it was Demi's back turned on him, but this was a new feeling. And Demi wasn't sure that she really liked it. In fact, she was sure she didn't like it at all.

"Where are you going?" Demi said, astonished.

He didn't answer, just kept striding down the walkway the way he had come.

"Atton!" Demi yelled after him. He didn't even turn around. "Stay!"

_Give me a reason._

"W-What?" Demi breathed. The sound of his voice in her head kept echoing, but its meaning didn't quite register with Demi until she realized just how much further and farther away he was getting.

"Atton!" she yelled again. "I—I…" She swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I _love_ you, you schutta!"

* * *

A/N: It really took me 27 chapters to get that out, didn't it? ;P

I'll post the URLs of all the illustrations so far on my author page soon.

Thanks for reading!


	29. 28: Poisoned Hearts

**Chapter 28 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Poisoned Hearts

"_**I **_love_ you, you schutta!"_

Once the words are out there, there's no taking them back. Demi stood there, breathing hard, as she flung the last words out there for good. Whether it would close the gap between them did not matter. All that mattered, was that she said it.

Atton, far away, stopped in his tracks, his back still to her. "You mean that?" he said, his voice sounding strange. He looked at her over his shoulder. "It's not just some ploy to get me to stay?"

Demi just waited there, smiling a little sad smile that was mischievious and sweet and apologetic and anxious and desperate all at once. The wind blew her fair hair in the breeze so it clung to her cheek and some strands fell loose from their band and hung at the nape of her neck. Her eyes watched him. "It's not," she said. And even as she said it, she knew it was true. "It's not a ploy, Atton. It's not any ploy."

In a few strides, Atton was back again before her. "What about the schutta bit?" he questioned, smiling a little, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. He felt closer than he ever had been before, and the aroma of leather, wind, and just _Atton_ filled her senses, and Demi got the feeling that there was no place else she would rather be. He was familiar, so familiar, and yet…he wasn't. "Because the way you said it," he continued, "I got a feeling that you meant it just as much."

Demi laughed softly and shook her head. With one hand, she rested her fingertips over his chest hesitantly. "I think," she said slowly, "that I've known it for quite some time, actually. The—the first part, I mean. And I know that I'm probably completely out of my mind, but perhaps you need to be for this. It's what makes every moment count. But we've been through so much already, haven't we? And I've been trying to deceive myself, Atton. I see that now." And then, she looked up at him. An intense energy burned in his eyes, throbbed in his heart. "But where does that leave us?"

Atton didn't say anything, but tightened his grip on her waist.

"Here?" Demi breathed. "In the middle of some war?"

Atton saved her and quieted her with a kiss. _No,_ he told her. _Right here where we belong._

Demi smiled through the kiss, and finally, it felt like everything connected at last. Everything felt…new. But for once, Demi felt like she didn't need to be scared. A pleasant shiver coursed its way down Demi's spine; there was so much to know, so much to want…

Above them, the sky was black save for a few glittering stars that covered the city. The sun would rise soon. Everything felt warm and safe and there was nobody else who could see them.

Or so they thought.

Suddenly, what felt like blood gathered on Demi's lower lip and entered her mouth, smooth and vile and thick. Demi choked and stepped backwards, spitting on the ground and wiping her mouth on her sleeve. Blood left a trail there. But it wasn't her own.

"Atton?" Demi said in alarm, still holding one of his hands.

Atton looked up at her, dazed. A poisoned dart had pierced him just to the right of his heart. Blood gurgled in his mouth and then he fell to his knees.

"No!" Demi yelled, shaking him. "Atton!"

Her eyes flashed. Looking to her left, she saw a shape on the rooftops, holding some type of crossbow. The figure stood up, and Demi saw who it was. Before she could react, another dart came flying at her. Demi knocked the first one away, but the second one caught her in her ribs.

A disbelieving sound came from Demi's lips, and then the world blurred away. She did not remember falling to the ground alongside Atton, or the shadow above the rooftops that swept away to collect her prize.

But she would soon.

**::.Later.::**

_Good, you're awake._

_Where am I?_

_Don't open your eyes, Dem. Don't. Not yet._

_What happened?_

_Just trust me. Hang in there._

_Atton?_

Silence.

"Rise and shine, sweetums."

Demi's eyelids fluttered open, tired, straight into Renee's emerald green ones.

"Why don't you join us?"

Renee smiled and got back to her feet.

Demi tried to gather her surroundings but everything still felt hazy. What felt very real was the dirty gag that dug against her teeth and pressed into her gums.

"You're probably worrying about wonderboy. Yeah, yeah, he's here too." Renee sounded dis-interested and bored. Demi heard the sounds of fabric and what sounded like metal or glass clinking overhead. She was in…a room. With greenish walls that were pretty much gray. It was almost empty and Demi could see a sleeping mat in the corner, as well as a few footlockers.

"No, don't strain yourself." Renee's voice cut through harshly and Demi's ears intercepted its wavelengths painfully.

_I'm over here. Don't give a sign. You alright?_

_I'm…_ Demi adjusted painfully. Her hands were tied together by an itchy rope behind her back. She couldn't help noticing just how tightly tied they were. And her lightsaber was gone. Again. _…just perfect. You?_

There was no reply for a moment.

_The darts, Demi. They drain away your energy, which means we won't be able to use the Force as much as we'd like. We'd drop from exhaustion if we do. Do everything you can do conserve it. Don't waste it. _

_Where are you?_

He was gone. The sound of a blaster being charged caught Demi's attention.

"You wanted to talk, Jaq?" Renee said. She was on the opposite side of the room. Another figure—Atton—was tied by his wrists to the wall there, but he wasn't gagged. The blaster was picked up. "Then here we are. The little triangle all here together. Seems to me there are a few things we need to settle."

"Well, since we're tied up here so nicely," Atton muttered, sarcasm and hate dripping from every word. "We might as well get it over with."

Renee started pacing. "When you left that cantina earlier, you actually thought this was over. But boy, Jaq, are you wrong."

"Damn it, Renee," Atton said angrily. "What will it take for you to get over yourself and your miserable pain, and move on? Wait! I have an idea!"

_Don't do this, Atton,_ Demi said warningly. _Don't—"_

"Kill me," Atton said, his voice hard, his face expressionless. "Just do it. Just pull the trigger, and all of your problems will go away. How does that sound, Renee? It's what you want, isn't it? So that's all you have to do. Frack it, Ren. Just kill me. Just do it."

"Shut—" Renee screamed, shooting the wall just a few inches to the side of Atton's head. The plaster exploded, spraying onto Atton's Jedi robes, but Atton barely blinked. _"—up!"_

It was then that Demi realized, although Renee was not the one tied up right now, she was really the one held prisoner.

"Why is it so hard? You finally have your chance after all these years. Pay me back, really give it to me." Atton laughed hollowly. "But you can't do it, can you?"

"Wipe that smirk off your face," Renee said. "Maybe I can't, but I can do this!" The blaster was suddenly pointing at Demi, still bound, on the floor. Her eyes were wide. "Maybe you don't care about your own life, Jaq, but you do care about hers. And, honestly, I couldn't care less about the little Jedi myself."

"You're not going to do that," Atton said threateningly, eyes on Renee. _Hold on, Dem_ he said to Demi. _Hold on…_

This time, it was Renee who laughed. "Right! Because you're really in the best position to tell me what to do." She walked closer to him, blaster still in hand. "'Cause I'm really curious, Jaq, what will you do if I do this?" In a flash, she shot Demi, a bolt of energy hitting her arm. Blood started pouring out. Demi winced in pain, and she bit the gag in an effort to hold in her cry. Atton could feel it happening to her, felt it pierce her skin and deeper to her veins and bone and marrow and blood. Force, how did they get here?

"We always liked our experiments, didn't we, Jaq?" Renee said, moving closer. "And you can't do anything right now. And you hate that. You never dreamed you'd be in this situation, did you? And I'm sure, that none of you imagined this was how you were going to die. I mean, I think both of you have your death wishes. But you're all very picky about how you want them to be. Probably doing something heroic, I guess. Does this apply? Slowly, slowly tortured, watching the other die before you. But, see, before we get to that, I'm also wondering how you'll react if I do this…"

And then she was on Atton, pressing her body against his as he was held to the wall, violently twining her tongue with his, hand on one side of his face, the other clutching tightly around a fistful of his thick, brown hair, angry, angry, and searching, searching for that one familiar moment, searching for the part of him she knew, that he wouldn't let her reach or find. Giving herself fully to him, but it wasn't enough. And Renee pushed back, and turned away, her eyes blinded with tears.

Atton watched her. "Why are you living in the past, Ren?" he said quietly. Every part of him felt sore now, in fatigue and worry for Demi and himself.

"Why did things have to change?!" she shot back, picking back up her blaster.

Demi was able to loosen the gag and move it away from her mouth. "Renee," she said weakly.

"Don't pity me!" Renee yelled. The blaster was again pointing at Demi. "Is it because of her? Did she charm you with her angelic face and words and that was enough to take you away? If so, then that's just shameful and pathetic, Jaq. I was kept captive by dozens of do-gooders and Force sensitives, and they all tried the same thing on me. Over and over they tried to change me. But it didn't work. Not one bit. It was living hell, Jaq. Being torn apart that way. So when I got free, I killed every last one of them, made them know what it felt like, being tortured, trying to be made into something you're not. But you…" She laughed again, disbelievingly. "Oh, that's just unbelievable."

"You don't know the first damn thing about what happened," Atton said menacingly.

"No," Renee said, stepping backwards. Her tone had suddenly changed. "It's not just that. I don't—I don't know you anymore. At all. You've fallen…so far. And you know what, Jaq? I think I'm just sick of this whole fracking charade." And she slowly pointed the blaster toward her own head. "It won't hurt, you know," she said softly. "It'll be quick. And then you can both go on living a lie; a big, happy, fucking lie. I hope you enjoy it while it lasts, love."

"Don't do it," Demi said through gritted teeth.

Renee turned towards Demi, laughing lightly. "Still think I can have redemption? Boy, some of you just don't give up." She walked over to Demi, and placed the sole of her boot on Demi's jaw, and started applying pressure, so Demi heard something crack. "How about I take you with me?"

And then she stopped, and took her foot back. "No. No, that just won't do. That's not fun at all. See, 'cause then we'd be leaving Jaq here all alone and with no lover of any kind, and that's just a sad, sad ending." She knelt down so she was face to face with Demi. "So I guess it'll just have to be you then."

"No!"Atton fought against the ropes that were binding him as Renee hit Demi hard across the face. As Demi turned to face her again, Renee hit her again. Demi's nose was bleeding, and rich, red blood stained through her Jedi robes. Demi lifted her feet up and kicked Renee back, so that she slammed against the wall behind her. She realized that the walls here were rough and sharp, so she quickly used them to her advantage to unbind her hands, rubbing the ropes against them until the rope finally fell to shreds.

Then, she hurried to untie her ankles using her hand that wasn't part of the arm that had been shot at. That arm felt heavy and awkward and severed. Numb yet full of stinging; blinding, grimacing pain, feeling barely attached to her body, only by a thin string that could easily break.

The strange thing was, there was a part of Demi that knew she should be panicking, but there was another part of her that felt strangely calm, even through all of this. All of this chaos and turmoil and greed and hurt and confusion…

"Okay," Demi said, standing up and cricking her neck back into place. "Now I'm just really, really pissed off."

Renee grinned and jumped to her feet as well. "Fueled to fight by anger, now, huh? Isn't that against some sort of Jedi code?"

Demi winced as she stopped the bleeding from her arm using the Force. Calm and soothing lights of energy encircled her arm. It helped a little bit. "Yeah, it goes, 'There is no emotion, there is peace,' but there isn't peace right now, is there Renee? And to fight you, I'm going to have to have to fight your way."

Renee put her hands on the two dagger hilts on her belt, and took a step backwards toward something hanging on the wall. "Well, D, I'm flattered, but unfortunately, you don't have what it takes."

Renee spun out one of the daggers and threw it at a rope on the wall that was holding up the chandelier. It was bright and sharp crystals swayed dangerously, and then the whole thing came crashing down above Demi. Using a touch of Force speed, remembering Atton's warning, she rolled out of the way, just as the chandelier fell a few inches to her left, the crystals breaking into thousands of pieces. Some shards dug into Demi's leg, every inch of her skin screaming in protest.

Demi looked back at Renee and before she could react, another dagger came flying straight at her. Demi dodged it in time, and it bounced off the wall behind her and fell to the floor.

"Let's recap," Renee said, advancing towards Demi, so she had no time to recollect the dagger. "You have no weapon. You're trapped in this room with me. My territory. I pull the strings around here. And, oh yes, your boyfriend over there is tied up and slowly dying because of some poison that I put into his mouth when I kissed him." Demi looked over at Atton, horrifed. Sure enough, his lungs were collapsing and he was choking and Demi could feel every part of it happening to him.

"Dem," Atton wheezed out, but then he couldn't finish as he couldn't breath.

"That's right, D," Renee said, a satisfied smile on her face. "I'm over him now. For all I care, he can die, you can die, and there can just be a nice, big cycle of dying because there's only one person coming out of here alive, and that's going to be me."

"Stop talking," Demi said through gritted teeth. "Fight _me!_ Leave Atton out of this."

"Oh, but you see," Renee said, circling around her. "It was never about you. It was always about that miserable, pathetic, good-for-nothing scoundrel that's dying over there! You, my girl, were just a bonus." She walked over to Atton and cupped her hand under his chin, making him look up at her, his eyes full of loathing and hatred. She patted his cheek, oblivious. "Oh, don't be like that, Jaq. Since I'm accommodating, I'll explain to you what's happening to your body, and how you're going to die." She turned to Demi. "First, the poison, a pill I made him swallow, takes over his lungs so breathing, pretty much out of the picture. Then, it freezes the rest of his body and stops the communication to his mind, so moving and thinking, also out of the picture. But the best part?" Renee took a deep, relaxing breath, spreading her arms out and stretching luxuriously. "He can't talk anymore. His big mouth, his smooth way with words, that's what gets him around the galaxy, but now, that won't be happening will it?"

Demi lunged in and punched Renee, kicking, kneeing, elbow-striking, anything, because the fury within her had risen so high. "Make! It! Stop!" she screamed, throwing Renee against the wall. Renee blocked her next strike almost lazily.

"No can do, D," she said. "See, once it starts, it can't stop. Your precious Atton, he's going to die. You always wanted a heroic death to be part of this, right?" Renee lowered her voice. "Well. Are you happy now?"

Demi stood there, breathing hard, not believing this was happening. Atton's eyes were rolling to the top of his head, his chest was shuddering. "Atton," Demi whispered fearfully, hurrying to his side. _Atton…Can you hear me? Hold on…_

"He's strong," Renee said softly. "That's why the pill didn't affect him so quickly at first. But he's not strong enough."

"You're just going to let him die?" Demi said, disbelieving.

"Why not?!" demanded Renee. "He left me to die, didn't he? Goes after that one Jedi who wears all white, and he forgets to come back at all. And you know what?" She kicked an empty plasteel canister out of the way. "Let the bastard rot for all I care."

"I don't buy that," Demi said softly. "I think you still care for him. You can't get what you want, so you kill him?"

"I don't see you trying to stop me!"

The two women stood their ground, fuming.

And then Demi closed her eyes and reached for Atton with the Force. She used their bond like a silver rope that would lead her back to him, even through the expanse of darkness that surrounded the both of them. She followed the link until it came to him. Atton. Who she knew, and who knew her better than anyone else. There he was, and there was the poison, slowly taking over his mind and body, a plague that blackened the remains it left behind.

_Force, Atton…Let me in. Let me help you…_

But he wasn't there. He wasn't responding. His heart beat was slowing, like a distant drum playing a beat that inevitably comes to an end.

When Demi opened her eyes, a fist collided with her jaw, and she fell, and Renee was standing over her wearing a smirk. "Now you know it's hopeless," she said.

Demi's eyes were on fire. She kicked Renee's legs so that she tripped and fell on the floor as well, and then Renee clamped her fingers on Demi's hair, yanking and pulling right at the roots, so Demi yelled in frustration and pushed her off. She drove Renee over to the edge of the room, in a series of punches and ducks and turns, then grabbed the dagger that had fallen to the ground, and held it in front of Renee, pinning her to the wall.

"What are you going to do, D?" Renee gasped, breathing hard, but still grinning. "Gonna kill me?"

Demi hesitated, and in that moment, Renee kneed her in the face, and Demi whirled and slumped against the wall beside Atton. She would have gotten up, but just then, something happened.

Atton coughed and sputtered, waking from whatever stupor he had been in, and spat something black and rotten onto the ground, where it lay among the discarded glass shards. "You forget, Renee," he said, his voice hoarse and rough. "I've been trained against poisons. And you were using my own pill against me. Not a smart move."

Demi stared at him. _How did you—?_

_Hello to you, too._ Demi could hear the wry smile behind his voice. _It wasn't easy. I'm somewhat out of practice. I had to…I had to contain the poison inside the pill. The acid in it is supposed to leak out and spread out into the blood stream, and I had to keep it under control using the Force, then get it out of my esophagus, and…It was hard. And honestly, kind of gross. Not exactly how I like to spend my evenings._

Demi lept up and started to saw through his bonds using the fallen dagger. _I should have done something. I tried, but you were locked down. I couldn't reach you…_

"Well, isn't this just picture perfect," Renee said, blaster in hand again.

Demi opened her mouth to say something, but Renee hit her against the skull, using the back of the blaster. Lights imploded in front of Demi's eyes, and suddenly she was hurtling through space.

"Bitch!" Renee shrieked, and slammed her against a door, the door to the exit. An escape. Demi jammed her fist onto the keyhole, an old and rusting one, and it gave way. Demi went through the door, and Renee came after her. "You ruined…everything!" The blaster and dagger lay on the floor and Renee pushed her against some of the pipes inside this narrow room. Smoke started filling the air.

Renee snatched the dagger from the floor, and dragged it diagonally across Demi's back, slicing her skin. Blood gushed from beneath the glinting dagger as it drew its mark.

"Stop!" Demi gasped.

"It's all your fault!" Renee exclaimed, hysteric tears running down her face.

Demi flung a fist at Renee as she whirled around, her brown robes following her, making Renee fall back against a strange wheel. Renee used this wheel as a leverage to get back up, but that moved it, and the wheel creaked and groaned. And then, thick, green, poisonous, fumes were creeping up from the vents. It filled the air, licked their skin, and a single inhalation of it could kill. What was this place? Demi instantly used the Force breath power that Kreia had taught her, long before when she had been in the Jekk Jekk Tarr. Even as she did so, she could feel her stamina draining away; everything slowly was starting to feel hazy…

Renee grabbed something from her black pant's pockets, a mask, and attached it to her face, but the oxygen in that would run out eventually, and she knew it.

Atton then came bursting in, having been biting and tearing through his ropes while Renee had been distracted when fighting Demi. Demi panicked, realizing too late that she hadn't taught him the Force breath power, and even the skills he had picked up long before would not be enough this time. Demi could feel his pain, even Renee's, and the lungs that were seizing up, refusing to give in. But eventually, they had to.

Demi hurried to catch Atton before he fell, and he hung limply, an arm draped across her shoulder. Demi supported him all the way down the hall, going as fast as she could, one leg dragging the other at a time. He was heavier than she had expected. She nearly tripped on a protruding pipe, but kept going. Everything was a blur, and there was no coherent thought except to get out, go fast, and go now.

Behind her, Renee held the mask she always carried around to her face tightly, but there was no more air left in it. "Jaq?" she whispered, before collapsing.

Demi turned back and saw Renee, sprawled on the ground, her shape almost covered and obscured from her view by the green fumes that worked their way up in the air. Her luscious, brown hair fell around her, one hand outreaching for the wheel, trying to turn it back, but the wheel was stuck and Renee had passed out.

"I'm insane," Demi muttered, and in one vigorous decision, limped back to Renee, reaching down to hold her around her slim waist. Demi hoped that the Force breath power would channel over all three of them, at least long enough. When they finally reached the exit, Demi's eyes were burning, and her arm was screaming in agony, but she kicked open the last door, and fell down to her knees.

They were now outside, the early morning air calm and cool. Demi could hear the sound of a nearby cantina, a few people talking and laughing over drinks, just like any other morning. The door slammed shut behind them, and Demi let the unconscious Atton and Renee rest on the ground.

_The sky is beautiful,_ was the last thought she had before she passed out.

**::.Later.::**

When Demi woke up, she was staring right into Renee's black boots.

"Why did you save me?" Renee's voice was calm but quavering, her emerald eyes angry. "Why didn't you just let me die? Why?!"

Dried blood clung all around Demi, and weariness captured her, but she pushed it away. "I'm not sure," Demi said, her voice cracking. She attempted to get to her feet, but she winced as a sharp pain in her back prevented her. She crumpled to her knees again, beside Atton who was still unconscious. "I think…I think it's because I still think you have a chance." _And I feel sorry for you…_

Renee's voice was hard, and her eyes showed pure hatred. Her face was pale and bruised. "Let me just make something clear for you, D," she said. "You cross me again, and things will turn ugly. You cross me again, and I'll kill you."

There was a pause. "You saved my life." She gave a harsh laugh. "Gods! I don't have a damn idea why, but personally, I'm not going to over-inspect it. I play fair. Maybe Jaq's told you that." _You're anything but fair, Renee. But somehow, I can't blame you._ "I'll let you and the loverboy live out one more night. But if I see you again, I swear on the Force I will not hesitate to plunge the nearest sharp object into your heart, and you will be bloody and screaming for mercy, begging me to let you die." Renee dropped the mask on the floor, and left it there, as she disappeared into the night. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…"

She left the sentence hanging, and once Demi could see her no more, she lay her head back on the ground and gave herself in to sleep. All her muscles and bones and every inch of her skin ached. She could feel and smell raw blood, even taste it in her mouth. The winds of Nar Shaddaa rustled her clothes and Atton's brown hair, and they stayed there in the shadows until the sun fully rose and somebody dragged their bodies away.

* * *

A/N: Do you ever wonder what would happen if Renee and Mira met? I bet that'll be interesting…

Anyway, the next chapter is almost done and some fun times are coming up, so thanks to everyone who has been reading so far and left their feedback. It means a lot. It honestly, honestly does. So thankees. ;)


	30. 29: Wear My Chains

**Chapter 29 of: The Fate of the Wandering**: Wear My Chains

"**I** think I need a vacation."

These words shattered the content and yet not so content silence that had fallen upon the rooftops of Coruscant, where two friends, one a redhead and the other a blue twi'lek, were deep in their own thoughts. Before them was the orange sun rising.

There was an exclamation of agreement from the friend near her at those words. "Oh, I hear you."

"We're _supposed_ to be on vacation right now, though, right?" Mission said slowly. "That's why we're all here. It doesn't seem to be working too well though. No offense to anybody."

"Yeah," breathed Mira. "A few days of friends disappearing, a sense of restlessness and uselessness, plus all these secrets I feel everybody knows except for me; it isn't all it's cracked up to be. No offense to anybody."

Mission smiled slightly, and alternated standing on her tops then her heels, as she was not somebody who could stand still. Something was on her mind. Finally she said, "Mira?"

"Yeah? I'm listening."

Mission sighed and threw a breadcrumb over the edge of the balcony. "What do you do when…something happens that you're not very sure about? I mean, it felt so right…and then it didn't. I'm not even really sure why it happened. Do you?"

She turned to look at the redhead beside her in black and green, who was lying comfortably in her low-back chair, her knee propped up.

"I'm going to need more than that," Mira mumbled sleepily, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Details, Mission. What exactly are we talking about?"

"Well, you know…"

"No, Mission," Mira said as patiently as a sleep-deprived-former-bounty-hunter could do. "I really don't."

"That thing…"

"What thing?"

Mission gave an exasperated sigh. "Dustil and I kissed, okay?!"

"Whoa!" Mira suddenly jolted from her chair and sat upright, giving a sharp intake of breath. "Well, give a girl some warning! Geez, Mission."

"I did!" Mission insisted, frustrated. "You're a female; you're supposed to be able to pick up these kinds of things fast."

"So, you and the Admiral's son joined a power coupling, did you?" Mira said, lying back down slowly, long legs stretching out. She grabbed a hat from the nearby table and put it over her face.

"It was one kiss!" Mission reddened and tightened her arms around herself.

Mira smiled and decided to give her a break. "First time, huh?" she questioned, her voice slightly muffled from beneath the hat. "How was it?"

"It was…It was…" Mission swallowed. "Pretty exceptional."

"Pretty except—!" Mira sat back up with a violent motion, giving a hoot of wild laughter.

"What?!" Mission demanded.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Mira said through the tears. "I'm just…I'm trying to imagine Dustil's face if we told his that his prized kiss was only…pretty exceptional!" She burst into laughter again.

"Well, it was!" Inside, Mission was thinking that perhaps speaking to Mira about this kind of stuff had not been the best idea. "Isn't 'pretty exceptional' a good thing?"

Mira sobered down and gazed off into the distance, holding the felt hat between her hands. "It's just so insane. You probably don't want to hear this, but one of my first kisses, this guy's tongue was just jamming down my throat…Force! It was _not_ pretty. I felt pretty tempted to just get rid of him quick instead of getting the higher bounty. That's how bad it was." Mira gave a sigh. "You see, not everything's as nice as a fairy tale. Oftentimes, you have to leave someone behind, or they leave you." No trace of laughter was shown on her face now. Her red hair shone with a golden light from the sun. "Or perhaps you go through life and don't experience anything like love at all. Every day you feel lonely; every day is the same."

Mission just stared at Mira for a few moments, before walking over and stepping on the redhead's foot hard.

"Hey!" Mira exclaimed in protest. "I'm spilling my guts to you here! I'm just telling the truth, Mission. My truth anyway." To herself she muttered, "I thought being a Jedi Master protected you from foot-stepping and all other dignity-ruining things."

"Thanks for that, _Mira!"_ Mission grumbled. "I'm trying to get some courage and all you're doing is scaring the heck out of me with tales of tongues down throats and love that never lasts!"

"Believe me," Mira said sincerely, "it was not intentional. I just…I just have this jaded view of love now. And relationships. For me, it's all a lie." She turned her eye on the blue twi'lek with shining eyes and still that strength of youth and hope within her. "You and Dustil, who knows? If you feel something, go and tell him. Don't ever make the mistake of not telling. I know it's easier said than done, but if you really like the guy—"

"Hey! There you are!" Griff's head emerged from the ladder they had climbed to get here, and cheerfully looked around. "What are the two of you doing up here so early in the morning?"

"Girl talk," Mira said simply, lying back down and putting the hat back over her face. "And since you're a guy, and girl talk can only make sense if it involves only girls, and not guys, which, if you need reminding, you are…"

Griff held up two hands. "I'm gone. But Miss Brunette Jedi is calling a meeting. I'm thinking it's urgent. She had her 'all-business' face on, you know, and I didn't want to mess with her."

"Another meeting?" Mission said curiously, as Mira said back up and put the hat away for good. "What about?"

"I'm going to find out," the redhead declared, grabbing her black jacket off the chair and pulling it on. "You coming?"

"I gotta talk to my sis first," Griff said, and stepped aside so Mira could head to the ladder.

"Be my guest," Mira proclaimed. "See you, Mission." Then she gave a conspiratory wink and added, "Good luck." The sound of her steps clanking down the rungs ceased as her red hair disappeared from view.

"Bye," Mission called after her. She turned to Griff.

"'Good luck?'" Griff echoed, raising his eyebrows.

"Girl talk," Mission confirmed, and leaned against the railing. "So, what's up, Griff? Are you in trouble or something?"

Griff called upon the most offended look he could. "Of course not! Is that the first thing you think of whenever I come and talk to you?"

Mission just crossed her arms and looked at him. "The last thing you said to me was at the dinner table." Here she called upon her best Griff impression: "'Pass the buns, will ya, Sis?' The last real conversation we had was when you got back from some company infiltration, and that was days ago!"

Griff gave in and sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just…" He rubbed his head and looked around. "I can't go to the meeting today."

"Why not?"

"Business."

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"What kind?"

"It involves credits."

"So?

"So I can't go."

"To the meeting."

"Right."

Mission rolled her eyes. _"So?!"_

"I need you to cover for me."

"Cover? Griff…"

"Yeah. You know, tell the terrifying Jedi lady I can't come."

"Why don't you tell her?"

"Because," Griff said, "she scares the crap outta me!"

"No way," Mission said in surprise. "You're scared of our little Bassy? I mean, I know sometimes she can come off a bit too strong, but she tries so hard to be the kind of person people want her to be. Okay, yeah, so she turned Dark Side _once_, but she's really just a love-deprived softy."

"Mission, I don't think that's the right term."

"Love-deprived?"

"Softy," Griff clarified, in a whisper.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

There was silence for a moment.

"This is bantha poo-doo, Griff!" Mission exclaimed. "I'm so sick of this! I'm gonna drag you to this meeting if I have to. I really will."

"Look," Griff said, his voice suddenly more serious. "I know I'm not perfect. I know I've made mistakes. I know that when you look at me, or when anyone looks at me, I'm not something even I can exactly be proud of. I'm sorry about the Griff clone that got sent here, and I'm sorry for whatever big, dumpy mess he made. I think they only used him 'cause he was supposed to be the first test run. And you know what? I hate how I can't be this idol or somebody dependable in your eyes, but I'm trying to make a new start, Mission, and I've got a new lead." His voice broke. "Mish, I'm really, really trying."

Mission was quiet for a moment. "I know you are, Griff."

"I'm broke, Mission. From past mistakes. That's why I'm doing what I have to do _now._"

"Past mistakes?" Mission pretty much yelled. "Griff, you've _been_ broke. And you've been broke ever since I can remember! So that's gotta equal to a lot of 'past mistakes', and those past mistakes never seem to end."

Griff hastened to interrupt, but Mission interceded. "And the only reason why I think you could need money is because you're leaving! You're thinking of taking off again! Am I right?"

"In…In the loosest sense of the word."

Mission gave an angry groan and turned away.

"Mission, I'm trying to make a living."

"Griff, you don't make a living! You—you scheme and you plunder and steal and borrow and beg and sneak. That's not making a living. That's scavenging for a living."

"Well, I'm breathing," Griff said angrily, "so it seems to be working, doesn't it?"

Mission sighed, her eyes tired. "Why'd you come back, Griff?"

"To—to apologize to you."

"And now, you're going to go off and make the same mistakes again, so you can come back and apologize—again. Tell me this, Griff. When you apologized, were you thinking of actually making up for everything, or did you just apologize to make yourself feel less guilty?"

"Mish," Griff half-laughed. "Come on."

"No! I'm not a kid anymore, Griff! Mom and Dad aren't alive, and I've seen things. I've seen planets die, people change, people suffer. I _love_ you, Griff. You've taught me almost everything I needed to know to survive on Taris. Perhaps too much. I came to rely on you, depend on you. And then," her voice cracked, "you just left. And that's something I can never fully forgive, Griff, you know?"

"Mish," Griff said sadly, eyes wide. His pride was hurt, his conscience heavy, but he still found the strength to open his arms to his sister. "C'mere."

Mission shook her head and tightened her arms around herself, sniffling. Griff stepped forward and hugged her anyway, long and tight, and kissed the top of her head before pulling away.

"I've changed my mind," he said. "I'm going to the meeting. I've always liked those free rolls that were there anyway. I'm not in any real rush. I can go to the business thing tomorrow. Are you coming with me to the meeting now, Sis?"

Mission wiped her eyes and rubbed her hands on her pants. And even though she wasn't entirely conscious of it, a tiny part of her was thinking, _I don't want Dustil to see me like this._ "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

"Good. That's good. Right? Are we good?"

"In the loosest sense of the word."

Griff smiled. "It's progress, anyway."

"Whatever you say, Griff."

"Mission."

She looked up.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. And this time, there was real meaning behind his words, like he was unloading everything wrong that he had ever done from himself, and offering it up for someone to please take away, but more especially, to take away the pain that he had caused upon his own sister. "I really am."

"I know you are, Griff," Mission said softly, turning and heading towards the ladder. "But it's not enough. Not yet."

**::.Nar Shaddaa.::**

_Gone to find Atton. Will be back. Take care. Demi._

Leo sighed and dropped the datapad back down. _So short and concise,_ he thought. Then, he turned his gaze down the hall to the medbay where Brianna lay, still and white, trapped in a coma. An unspeakable, heavy burden seemed to fall upon his chest, a feeling of dread.

_I can't do anything,_ Leo thought. _There's so much I have to make up for and there's nothing I can do. Brianna…she didn't deserve this._

With one hand on the doorframe he made his way inside. There she was. She was the perfect image of everything he had failed to do right, everything so good that it hurt. He sighed, shook some of his silvery hair out of his way and sat down on the chair beside her, staring down at his wrung hands.

"Heya, flyboy. Am I interrupting something important?"

Immediately, Leo stood up, pushing his chair back. He stared at the brunette standing just a few feet away from him, leaning leisurely against the wall. He recognized her face from the poster. How long had she been there?

"Don't worry," Renee said, as though reading his thoughts. "I haven't been watching you in your whole pathetic despair that long, thank the Force. I've just arrived."

"You need to get out," Leo said threateningly, stepping forward angrily.

Renee just laughed. "A welcoming host, aren't you? Hmm. So that's her, isn't it?" She observed Brianna who lay there, oblivious to those around her. "That's the whole reason why you're stranded here in the first place." Renee gave a half-chuckle. "How ironic. And how…_peaceful_ she looks. I wonder if she'll remember any of this when she wakes up. If she'll remember you there, patiently waiting by her side, day and night, day and night…" She reached out as though to touch Brianna's hair.

Leo grabbed her wrist, his grip firm. "You're not going to touch her either."

Renee's green eyes glowed like simmering emeralds, feeling the tension in the air just as well as him. "I'm not here for her." She used her other hand to push him hard in the chest so he got off-balance and her arm was freed. That accomplished, she turned to the wall to light her cigarra. Flicking off the lighter and turning back to Leo, she took a little exhale of smoke.

"So you're here to become smoking buddies. No, Renee. I don't think so." Leo's voice became hard. "You obviously have many contracts in this city. What are you, one of Vincentii's cronies now?"

"Crony?" Renee said thoughtfully. "No. I'm not a crony. Far from it, actually. Voren just tells me who he wants killed and when he wants it done. But the 'how…'" She smiled crookedly. "He leaves that part all up to me."

"Sounds like a real nice partnership you've got going."

"Oh, for sure. But see, you would know all about it, wouldn't you? Seeing as you worked for him for a couple of years as well."

"It wasn't a couple of years," Leo said through gritted teeth. "It was _a_ year. And you'd do well to remember that."

"Gee, oh gee, I've just gotten here and already I've received about three threats. But you see, Leo, a year, a couple of years, to Voren, it's all the same. You turned your back on him and his company, flyboy, and Voren figures you owe him big. Now, personally," Renee started walking around Brianna's bed, "I don't care one way or another if you abandoned him. I hate the man. But as you might know, I owe him as well, and I thought, well, now's the time to get rid of the debt once and for all."

"You haven't sworn a Wookiee life debt to him. We owe him nothing."

"Oh, no, White-Haired Boy." Renee had picked up the nickname from listening in on conversations. Back on Central Port, the Sith had installed cloaked listening devices all around. "As a matter of fact, I do owe him. My life, in fact. But it goes deep than that. I plan to get off this miserable junk heap as soon as I can, but Voren's made that impossible, hasn't he? We're under quarantine. We try to leave, we blow up. Literally speaking. Those aren't the kind of odds I like to work with.

"He informed the Republic authorities of my presence, and as a result, the seal was put up. But he makes sure the Republic doesn't get me, that I can't reach them, and that everyone here on Nar Shaddaa including the other crime bosses are just trapped, going around and around in this abominable circle that just never ceases to end."

"That doesn't explain why you're here."

"No, it doesn't, does it? It's because, good old reliable Voren has made a _list._ I complete the list, he tells the authorities the Sith have killed me off, I jump free, and cause chaos elsewhere. Everyone's happy."

"And what exactly is on this list of yours?"

"You ask all the right questions, don't you, flyboy?" Renee smiled between her two fingers holding up the cigarra. "Let me tell you, your name, Demi's name, and Jaq's name are on it quite a bit."

"Demi," Leo exclaimed in surprise. "What do you know about her?"

"What I know," said Renee, slightly hysterically, and Leo noticed the bruises on her face, "is that I've been going way easier on your sister than I ever should have. But you, Leo." She walked up close to him and nodded thoughtfully. "You just may be more important to Voren's cause than you ever realized."

"I'm not doing anything for him," Leo said, ignoring her penetrating gaze, his words more spiteful than usual, surprising even him. But whomever he had been when he was part of Vincentii was someone he wanted to leave behind there. He did not like him at all. "Not anymore. Never again."

"Yeah," Renee said, but it was obviously clear that she didn't believe him. "Yeah, you go on thinking that." She sighed and stamped out her cigarra on the ground of the medbay, leaving a scorch mark on the Ebon Hawk that would lie there forever. "I don't even like the damn things, I just think it's kind of funny, seeing all the many different ways people react to it. Some people even find them intimidating, if you'd imagine that."

"Really." Leo's eyebrows jolted up in surprise, and his hands started wandering towards Brianna behind his back, where he was hoping a weapon still lay fastened at her waist. Where were HK and T3? "Intimidating? Whatever happened to revolting, and I-hope-your-lungs-freeze-up-and-die?"

Renee laughed lightly. "Oh, I like you, Leo. I really do."

Then, from behind Leo, something was plunged into his side. He crumpled to the floor just as two Sith appeared, flanking him, stealth field generators crackling and deactivating, the weapon held in one of their hands.

"But if my boss wants to see you, then he's _going_ to see you, because all I really care about is getting out of here alive." Renee smiled down at the figure on the floor, as Leo looked up dazedly beneath his eyelids. Her image became increasingly more blurry. "Sweet dreams, White-Haired Boy. Sweet dreams."

Once she was sure Leo had passed out, she turned to the two Sith. "Leave the droids. Once they get unfrozen, Demi's gonna need somebody to tell her what just happened. Then, everything can go exactly as the dear old boss planned." Renee's voice, holding tones of sarcasm and irony in its depths, softened, and she turned on her heel to exit the medbay.

As though to herself, she muttered, "Somebody's gotta wake that blondie up, 'cause she's missing all the fun around here." And the sound of her shoes clinking against the _Ebon Hawk_'s floors slowly melted away.

**::.Nar Shaddaa.::**

Not too far away, a Jedi lay dreaming…

**One year ago.**

In Atton's experience, there were normally four different stages a person could go through while in their drunken state, if they started out in a neutrally good mood. The first one was of course, tipsiness. Laughter and giggles at the most unfunny thing, where everything is happy and troubles are forgotten. The second was impatience and an increase of more daringness and risk-taking, mostly in the doing of stupid things. Making a pass at someone, demanding more drinks for free, starting a fight. After that, the person might go through a sober phase, where they spilled their deepest secrets and worries and sadness and basically their whole life story, whether anyone was listening or not. And then, of course, there was the fourth stage which generally involves a large amount of puking, but that can be skipped for now.

It was very interesting watching a Jedi Master get drunk, shedding all dignities and whatever armor they held to keep other people at bay. It was all gone. At the moment, Demi seemed to be at the first stage, and it was strange, although not the least bit displeasurable, watching her be truly carefree.

"Just one more cup, I swear," said Demi, for the twelfth time, gulping the juma down in one breath. Atton watched as her eyes got misty, and took over her senses. "This…this is good. It's very…" Demi searched for a word…"Juma-y." She giggled madly. "Is that a word? It should be a word. It's very wordy."

"Yeah, I've, ah, I've heard that." Atton couldn't believe he had actually gotten her to come to the cantina. All he knew was if anyone deserved a break, it was Demi. She admitted that it would be her first juma in about five years, and Atton said to drink all she wanted and have some fun, something he personally thought she had been lacking ever since the old witch had joined the party. Now, Demi wore her hair down, out from her ponytail for once. Down to her shoulders, white-blonde, and silky. The pink flower that had been in her previous drink as decoration was now in her hair. She laughed giddily and freely, as the empty cups lined down the bar. Atton had never seen her like this before.

"So…tell me about Kavar," Atton said, deciding that as long as she was like this, he could try to get some information out of her. He had always had a sneaking suspicion there had been something going on between them.

"Kavar?" Demi hiccupped. "What's to say? I don't like him. I don't like him at all. He didn't say a word when they banished me, you know. What a friend he was. Really."

She was quiet for a moment and then she looked back up at Atton, mischieviousness hidden in the corner of her mouth. "I do say, Atton, you're trying to get me drunk, aren't you? You've never been very subtle, you know, although I think you like to think so. You're not touching your drink. I'm not so intoxicated that I can't notice things, Atton, I don't know why you're under—"

She wobbled a bit as she attempted to hop off her seat, "—estimating me like that."

Atton lay a few credits down at the bar, a brow risen quizically in amusement, and followed her.

"No!" said Demi, to a complete stranger who looked quite bewildered. "I won't dance with you! I'm here with someone else." She held up a finger warningly. "I have a spatula!"

"_Okay_," said Atton, rushing over and grabbing her by the elbow before she could make any real damage. "Come on now, Demi. Leave the nice man alone." Apologetically he said to the man, "Sorry 'bout that. These Jedi…they don't know how to hold their juma."

"Juma?" asked Demi excitedly, clinging on his vest. "Where's the juma?"

"In your stomach, Dem. You drank it all."

"All?"

"All."

"Oh," she said disappointedly.

And then, it was as though a bit of sense came back into her, and she stumbled backwards a bit. "Force, why'd you let me drink so much?" she groaned, putting a hand to her forehead. "Remember this one time I was at this inn, and I was drunk? I mean completely _wasted_." She held her hand off into the distance, hanging lazily, with no control at all at the wrist to emphasize her point. "I was so _quiet._ Now I can't seem to shut up. Oh, wait, you weren't there, were you? Were you, Atton? I can't—I can't remember."

Just then, an upbeat song came on. Demi grabbed Atton by the hands and dragged him into the center of the dance floor. "Let's dance!"

Atton was a bit uncertain but he wasn't going to argue. In spite of, or perhaps because of the alcohol, Demi moved gracefully, totally relaxed, swaying her hips from side to side, and gazing off to a place somewhere beyond Atton's head dreamily. She placed Atton's hands on her waist, almost instructively and business-like, and that made him smile. As she draped her arms around the back of his neck lazily, he suddenly felt a thrill go up and down his spine. The music was pulsing in Atton's blood. A bit of guilt that this was happening at all because of him came into the back of his mind, but he pushed it away. She'd thank him later. Maybe.

"I'm drunk," said Demi, matter-of-factly. She twirled to the music, tilting her head back and laughing. "I love it!"

Atton had never met someone who was so aware or conscious of the fact that she was drunk, _while_ it was in effect. Most people, as they attempted to walk a straight line for the authorities, would always deny it vehemently, even as they tripped over every visible object in range.

"I love _you_," Atton said quietly, finally blurting it out. He didn't even know what he was about to say until he said it. But he knew it was exactly what he felt. However, even as he said it, he felt a part of himself miss Demi, the other her, the one who could be serious, the one who could relate to whatever someone said, the one who listened, the one who punched him over the shoulder at random moments. He missed her.

Demi stopped laughing, then punched him playfully on the shoulder. Well, at least that part hadn't changed. "You crazy," Demi said.

"Maybe I am," Atton sighed, his eyes going dark. Was he taking advantage of this situation? Ashamed, he knew he wouldn't so what he was about to do if Demi wasn't so drunk. It didn't matter. The juma, the music, the dance, and Demi. Beautiful, laughing, carefree. Like she always should be. It was now or never. Consequences didn't matter now.

As the music pulsed a beat louder and faster, Atton grabbed Demi to him by the waist, and he placed his lips firmly on hers. He felt Demi tense up, then relax and fall willingly into the kiss. He picked her up like she weighed nothing, swung her around, and kissed her. He gently put her back on the ground and kissed her again, tasting the juma on her lips and not caring one bit. The monster inside of him sighed contentedly, as he dragged his fingers through her soft hair, unaware of anybody else around them. It was wild, gentle, passionate, and so much more all at once. Time seemed like it would never stop. But it did.

Demi slowly pulled back, eyes closed as though in a dream, then slowly opened them. She looked at him gently, straight in the eye. Those magical eyes of hers. "You still crazy," she said. She gave him a sweet, lingering kiss one last time that was too short to give him time to react, then walked away, using the wall to support herself.

Atton gave her a head start, then headed after her. He found her a moment later just outside of the cantina, slumped against a pole, sleeping the liguor off. Silently, Atton picked her up and carried her in his arms all the way back to the ship.

The next morning, when she woke up in her bed, the alcohol seemed to have made her forget all about the event, and so they did not speak of it. They went about their normal business. Demi upgraded her lightsaber in the garage, came to talk to him, and asked him to fly them to the next planet. For a long time after that, everything seemed like business, nothing more. But it was her not playing their customary game of pazaak with him as though she wanted to get out of there as fast as possible, and her not mentioning the burning headache that Atton knew she had, that made Atton think differently.

Perhaps she had remembered that last night, and had chosen to keep silent as though that would make the night and its events go away and remain forgotten.

And that last possibility, that hurt Atton most of all.

**::.Nausuma, present time.::**

It all happened so fast. First she had been sprawled out upon a cold, bumpy stone floor, slowly lifting herself up in an attempt to find out where she was, and what she saw was unlike anything she had seen before. She was standing on a lone slab of stone, and beyond that was an abyss. Dark, cold, never-ending. An attempt to lean over and discover what lay beneath and beyond the blackness would result in her death.

And it was dreadfully cold. Not cold enough to hug herself tight with her arms, but cold enough to truly understand the reality that yes, she was standing on top of some Force-forsaken column, the foot of which she would never be able to fully see. And all around was nothing. Everything felt empty. Cold. Forbidding. And dark.

Elaine carefully turned around and looked above her and all around her. A single shard of light fell upon her column and herself, its source a mystery. "Hello!" she called into the nothingness. It wasn't particularly one of her best ideas, but she was stranded and it was a vain attempt to prove that she wasn't.

"Your time is up, Revan."

The words were boomed from all around her, chilling, forseeing some empty fate. It was the voice of Aleksander.

"No more will you be held back. The time for action has come."

Elaine spun around wildly. "This is a dream, isn't it?" she yelled towards the heavens. There was no answer. "Isn't it?!"

And then, came the sound of something heavy clanking open. Elaine slowly looked toward it, and what she saw caused her heart to stop for one fearful moment.

It was a machine, an ancient mechanism, carved with the face of some other-wordly creature god, as large as a monument, slowly encroaching upon her one territory and safety, the column she was standing on. It was help up by chains and was steadily moving towards her. At first had thought she could lunge and hold onto it as a ride out of here, but then the machine opened its tremendous mouth. A blast of fire spurted out, tongues of yellow and orange whip-lashing through the air, casting heat upon Elaine's face and momentarily hypnotizing her.

It was about to run her over, about to engulf her within its flames.

"You have no more options," came his deep voice again, from above and all around.

Elaine lost her balance as the mechanism more than twenty times her size smashed into the column with an almighty strike, crumbling it into pieces as it slowly sunk down. Elaine started to fall with it; she used her hands in an attempt to grasp something; anything…Her fingers that had been unintentionally scraping were now bleeding.

She found her footing against the rock of the column, and she held herself there almost horizontally, gathered her strength, and jumped, just as a tremendous chunk of stone from above was about to crush her.

She was free-falling through the dark air, the wind rushing through her hair and making her feel alive, but who knew how long that would last. There was nothing to hold onto, nothing…

And then her arms found a solid bar to hold onto. _A bar?_ she wondered. _That makes no sense…_

As she thought that, light from above shined down and revealed a whole jungle of equipment, strangely suspended in the black air. More bars and rock walls and all sorts of things she could use to climb…These were things she could use to get out of here. _This is a dream, this is a dream,_ Elaine kept repeating to herself.

There was another clanking sound from behind her, and Elaine spared a fraction of a second to look back. The monstrous structure had been lowered even further on the chains, and if she didn't move fast, the fire would take over her; it would take over everything.

And so it started. Elaine was trying to outrun—outclimb—something that was supremely superior to her by so much more. She used the power in her arms to propel her from one bar to another, and when she came to the end of the bars, she remembered:

_The Force._

She had not felt it in so long. Dare she try it now?

Elaine configured a barrier out of nothing, its whispery, blue and silver shape weaving its trail out of Elaine's fingertips and slowly becoming bigger and expanding into a large bubble-like sphere that tried to hold the fire at bay.

The machine smashed through the barrier just as it had smashed through the column, dispersing it entirely, and Elaine felt a snap within herself, as though the machine itself had crashed into her. So she could only rely on her Force to give her strength, nothing more.

Her breath came out in sharp, small exhales, and she hoisted herself on top of the bar she was on—she didn't have time to gather her balance—and jumped to the rock wall beyond, hoping to grab at the top of it. Everything was risky, but it was the natural instinct of survival that was kicking in now. Behind her, the machine was demolishing the bars she had just been on, one after another, metal clinking, metal falling. There was no going back.

She had made it. Barely. Her face had almost rammed straight into the stone if she hadn't turned her head to the side, and her grasp at the top of the wall was slippery. There were a few creases in the stone but it felt so unforgivingly flat. Elaine summed up her energy and flipped her legs over the top to find out what was on the other side.

To her surprise, it was a stone ramp. Her beat-up boots slid down it easily, and she got into a stronger stance with bent lengs and outheld arms. Wind rushed through her senses and her heart beat with an unquenchable excitement. Despite herself and the situation she was in, she smiled. She had been held in that cell, tied up and bound, for far too long. Forget the danger; she was free.

Above her, the machine smashed into the top of the ramp and chunks of rock sped down just as fast as Elaine. A smaller one rammed into her elbow, causing her to hiss in pain and get knocked over to the side and lose her balance a bit. She felt blood and soreness. She attempted to make her body as small as possible to avoid being a target. It wasn't enough, so she started _running_ down the ramp.

She almost tripped, but she used the downhill as much to her advantage as she possibly could. And then, abruptly, she saw the end of the ramp. Before she reached the edge, she jumped, and swung onto the handles of a bar further on, that she had spotted while she had been above. Behind her, the rocks rolled and fell into the ever-surrounding abyss. Wind was piercing and whistling in her ears and the world was turning at a remarkable rate, but she kept her hands on the bar and kept spinning through the air, finding herself over the bar then swinging down below the bar, and over again. She looked towards the direction she had not gone yet and saw a doorway, bathed in pale blue light. Everything was surreal. It was all dream-like and moving so fast; there was never any time to catch her breath.

So she let go, and flew through the air towards it, landing in a tumble at the floor before it. The fire monster machine gave a roar and it was mostly then that she realized just how loud everything was. The crackling of the fire, the clanking of the chains, the roar of the wind and monster, and the destruction of everything in its path. She had been blocking it all out, for the better, to enchance her concentration.

And then, she heard something else that made her stop in her tracks and not go through the door. It was the sound of a little boy crying. It filled the air, high-pitched wails of desperation, filled with longing and despair. It reminded her of when she had cried out back in the tower room. And it reminded her of Ian. A little boy crying. Where was he? And who was this boy crying? Was he another prisoner? Dare she trust anything in this place?

The sound came from a small shape out on a column just like Elaine's old one, not too far away; she could see it clearly, but it was too far away. The boy kept rubbing his eyes and crying. He was real, and in the same situation as Elaine's. She didn't even look back at the door; time was running short and she needed to find something she could use to get over to him.

"Can you hear me?" she yelled over to the boy, who stopped crying enough to give an exclamation of surprise at her standing there.

"Yes," he said, his voice articulate and clear. He had brown hair and tear-streaked cheeks. "Who are you? What—what's happening?"

"Listen to me," Elaine said desperately. "Try to jump to me. I don't have any rope."

"Why is the sky burning?" the boy asked, and he started crying again. "I don't know why they took me. I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Shh," Elaine consoled. "Listen, you've got to get out of there! Do you see anything you can hold onto?"

"I can't jump!" the boy cried in terror. "It's too far! I—I can't."

The monster unleashing its fire was not stopping, not stopping at all. Slowly, the metal chain cranked down and opened the mechanical mouth, and a great burst of fire shone behind the boy's figure. It seemed that the eyes in the face of the giant statue were glowing red, as it slowly encroached on.

"_Jump!"_ Elaine screamed, horror gripping and seizing her heart in its hand.

In panic, knowing he had nowhere to turn, the boy turned to glance behind him, and as he did so, flames engulfed him. His high-pitched wailing cry would stay with Elaine's thoughts forever. She looked away, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. _Ian, Dustil, Ian, Dustil…I'm so sorry,_ she thought.

She put her hand on the doorknob before her and stepped into the dark, because, just like the boy, she had nowhere else to turn.

**::.Later.::**

Elaine opened her eyes and a long stream of tears fell as she did so. She was trembling; she could not control herself. She was back in the tower, she was again chained up, and Aleksander was leaning over her.

"You did not save him," he whispered, and Elaine shuddered and pressed herself as far into the stone wall behind her as she could go.

"Do you always state the obvious?" she managed to say, and at this moment, she knew she had never felt this much of hatred for anybody else. This…This was hate. And it forced red sparks to fully take over her eyes, to narrow them, and she stared back up at Aleksander, and he noticed them.

It forced him to smile a bit. His armor shone under only a small ray of light from the high window.

"You did not save him, Revan," he continued as he began pacing, "And although you may believe that there could not possibly have been anything that you could have done; you are wrong. You did not really try. Even though that boy symbolized your weakness; he could have been Ian. You just let him die. You were too focused on your own survival. But you see, Revan, that was your mistake. You shouldn't have cared about him at all. What use would he have been to you? He was just a boy. It doesn't matter what he might have grown up to become; he could do nothing for you. You should not have wasted your time or spared him a glance."

"Why did you kill him?" Elaine demanded, her voice breaking.

At this, Aleksander spun towards her so violently. "Are you so blind? Are you so slow as to catch on, Revan? He was _a vision._ And that, had been a dream."

"That's how you live, isn't it?" Elaine exclaimed suddenly. "You keep people prisoner in towers and chains and you fool them with dreams and words." She shook her head, never moving her eyes from his. "You think you have power but that 'power' is what you hide behind. All you are, Aleksander," she said, and suddenly she smiled coyly, "dear, dear, grandfather, is a coward."

Aleksander's eyes narrowed into bloodshot slits. He lifted a hand up, commandingly, and as he cast it down, bolts and currents of lightning coursed its way through Elaine's veins, making her scream and squirm. The pain rattled and stretched her bones. Lights flashed before her eyes. Her knuckles tightened around her chains. When it was over, Elaine gasped for air. How long it had lasted, she did not know.

"You weren't raised a fool, Revan." Aleksander dropped his hand down at his side, beside the hilt of his sword. "Your parents were warriors. You have been a strategizer and a leader, destined for great things, not petty worries about those inconsequential to you. But then you fell, and you talk of things you can't even begin to understand."

Aleksander's heavy footsteps made their way to the wooden door, the exit to her cell. "I am disappointed in you."

And the wooden door slammed shut.

Those words held more weight than Elaine could ever have expected. She felt shame. But mostly, she felt anger, boiling wrathfullness and fury.

_I will kill him,_ she vowed. _I don't care when and I don't care how…But he will die._

And through the darkness, Darth Revan's eyes shone deep, blood red.

* * *

A/N: Poor Elaine. She's definitely not enjoying herself as much as Demi and Atton. ;) Anyway, sorry for taking so long! For some odd reason, summer, the time when I supposedly have more time on my hands, is making me write more slowly and is offering not even a slim source of inspiration. Ah, well. Thanks to anyone keeping up with the story! You're the best. 


	31. 30: What Dreams May Come

Part II of **The Fate of the Wandering**

Chapter 30: What Dreams May Come

_A/N: Okay, erm, just bear with me. I promise there's some violence somewhere in here. lol ;)_

**T**he moment Demi's eyes fluttered open, she was immediately bombarded with a headache of white, swirling lights that glared from up above her. She groaned and rolled over, only to jerk up and sit up as a shock of pain shot through her spine. The familiar sting of Renee's knife drawn across her back completely woke her up. She closed her eyes and could see Renee's emerald ones staring right into hers.

"Gonna kill me?" Renee had taunted, grinning, breathing hard.

Demi shook her head and opened her eyes more slowly and carefully. The first thing that came to mind was that somebody had kidnapped her and put her back on Onderon, in Dhagon Ghent's medical lab. White beds lay down the narrow room in a long row, and it was dark, excepting of course, for the various lights much like the ones above Demi's bed. To her right, much further down, was a large sliding door, slightly parted, which revealed a silvery moon. She had slept through a whole day.

Demi looked down at herself, pushing back the stiff, white sheets. She was dressed down to her plain top and leggings she wore beneath her Jedi robes, and was barefoot. The glass shards in her leg had been carefully and professionally removed by someone and felt as though some herbal ointment had been spread upon the raw skin. The arm that Renee had shot at was now bandaged tightly although blood had stained through.

This inspection done, she turned to the left side of her bed and set her feet down, before seeing him. Atton had been sitting there, waiting for her to wake up no doubt, in a chair at her side. Now he had dozed off. Atton had his arms crossed and his chin down to his chest, while his head leaned against the wall to his right. His breathing exhaled in a sort of whistely sound.

Demi started to put a hand out to rub him on the arm and wake him but she withdrew her hand. He deserved to rest.

However, just as she set her small, bare feet on the carpet floor so she could explore the rest of this place, he spoke.

"Going somewhere?" Atton said, raising an eyebrow quizically at her as though he had been awake the whole time.

Demi let out a little yelp of alarm and instinctively her hand jumped to cover her mouth. "Force, Atton," Demi said, turning to look at him and slowly lowering her hand. "Were you awake the whole time?"

"If I'm not mistaken," Atton said, "you were awake for a good few minutes as well before you opened your eyes. What were you thinking about?"

"About how much I wished that I hadn't trained you how to read other's thoughts," Demi said pointedly. More quietly, she added, "How are you?"

Atton evaded the question by standing up and taking her by the elbow. "Come on. Follow me."

"What—? Atton…"

But Demi didn't have time to complain or protest because he was already walking down through the long, narrow room towards something further on. Demi looked around, sighed, and followed. They passed more beds, paper screens held between wooden beams that acted as dividers between the empty beds, tables that held medical equipment, one kolto tank…

"Where are we going?" Demi finally said aloud, looking around in mild interest, while cradling her injured arm at the elbow.

"A kolto shower," Atton said simply, as they neared the end of the very long room.

"A—" Demi back-tracked. "A _what?_"

"Come on," Atton said as patiently as he could be at the moment, "Just get in." And he slid a door open and ushered her in.

The 'kolto shower' was a small rectangular room with about four nozzles, two on each side, hanging high up on the walls. The floor was damp and small drains were at the corners of it. The glass walls were tinted a light mauve with uneven patterns all around. And lastly, it was open-aired and unlike anything Demi had ever seen before.

Demi watched as Atton headed over to a dial and inspected it for a moment before taking a chance and pulling at the knob. Then, he came back to her.

"What is this place?" Demi whispered.

"After…after what happened with Renee, I just woke up here, on the bed next to you. There's nobody else here, except for you, me, and this old lady that works here. She told me about this contraption, gave me instructions. Supposedly it contains some healing elements similar to kolto in it. It helps any wounds you have finish healing, all kinds of things. I didn't really have a chance to talk with her; she disappeared before I could ask anything, but I have to say, she was a hell of a nicer old lady than Kreia ever was."

Demi smiled softly and suddenly, all the four nozzles turned on. Warm, steaming water fell all around them, dripping down the glass panes, pouring down Demi's leg, getting into her hair, wetting down her clothes. But it was soothing, almost calming.

"Here," Atton said, his voice low, and untied the bandage at Demi's arm for her. Demi tilted her face up to meet the water and closed her eyes. The upset skin at the back of her leg seemed to smooth over and receive instant curing, and the aching pain at her back finally felt at rest.

"This is unreal," Demi said softly. She held out her arm to let the water treat it. Blood fell into the mix of water and swirled at the ground before disappearing into a drain. When she looked back at her arm, there was just a small scar to say there had ever been any wound there at all. She looked back up at Atton. "Were you very hurt?"

"Nah, you were the one who got a bad beating. I was just held against the wall while you fought her, and once I got free, I even fainted." Atton shook his head in mock shame, and a few droplets of water from his brown hair fell. "I really don't think I'm going to live that down."

"I wasn't the one poisoned," Demi pointed out.

"I wasn't the one shot at."

Demi smiled. "I'm not sure which is worse."

"Then I guess we'll call it a draw."

"I guess so."

Demi looked back up at him. They stood there for a while, staring at each other with a buzzing intensity as water fell like rain all around. They both stepped closer to each other, awkward on their feet, and it was as though they were getting reacquainted. The moment they had shared before the encounter with Renee seemed so long ago, more than it really had been, thus making it seem like a dream in which something beyond important had occurred; so important that its actual weight was unknown. Now they would find out for sure.

Hesitantly, Atton's arms enfolded around her and Demi held him around the rib cage. His chin rested lightly above her head. He let out a soft sigh and his eyes, so dark, slowly lost a bit of their weariness and sadness and gave in to a devotion that was so gentle and good that he finally felt that he could trust himself enough to be here at all. They just stayed like that for a long while, neither sure who needed it more.

When they finally pulled away, it was Demi who first leaned in and whispered to his ear, her cheek pressed against his, "I think this moment is much better than last year, when we danced at that cantina, because back then I was sodding drunk, and this time I'm only sodding wet, so really there's a big difference. Don't you think?"

She couldn't resist a small, ever-widening smile that those who have finally divulged their naughtiest secret make, as she pulled away and started to make her way out the exit of the kolto shower.

Atton stood there shock-still for a few moments, before everything suddenly jolted into place. _She remembered. _And it seemed like he had always known; he always had.

"Oh no, you don't," Atton managed to say, grabbing her by the wrist. "You don't just say something like that, then leave, and get away with it." Slowly, he drew her back to him, suddenly all the more aware of his hands brushing against her skin. Goosebumps seemed to rise beneath his touch. It was probably just the cold air. Probably. "Not in my book."

"I didn't know you had a book," Demi said teasingly.

"Oh, I do," Atton replied somberly, and he shook the water out of his eyes and the hair that draped over them. "It's called How to Deal With Jedi Women: A Guide For Pilots."

"I think Carth'll want a copy," Demi whispered, her breath catching in her throat as they came closer, because she knew what would happen next, and then they kissed. At first, they laughed a little through it, using the comedy to cover up nervousness, a realigning of lips and hands, but as Demi found herself pressed up against one of the walls none too gently, all laughter was gone. Mist from the falling water they were wasting but not entirely caring about, slowly filled its way all around them, clouding their senses, making the illusion all the more real.

This was a moment Atton knew would be running through his head, a memory he would treasure and store inside a corner of his mind whenever he had nothing else to cling to; a memory that would be overused and recalled and worn, and eventually thinned out, but still, it would always be there.

Demi tilted her head back and he trailed his lips over the smooth whiteness found on her graceful, arched neck. Her hands cradled his head in an embrace and pressed him closer to herself. Her breath came out so sweetly as his hands wandered freely…She tightened her grip on the back of his neck and closed her eyes. The soft pressure from her fingers left white marks on the skin there, before finally disappearing as her hands untangled from his hair and slid down to rest over his shoulders. A shiver, perhaps only fractionally because of the now cold water, rippled through her body and he felt it as it happened.

As their mouths slowly met again, soft and searching for more, together their minds seemed to walk hand in hand and follow through all of the trials and events and memories that had led them here to this very moment, when he was hers and she was his, fully and wholly, nothing more or less. Demi wondered if a part of her always knew, wondered, even through all the pretending, if this had been from the very start something she had wanted.

It seemed so strange to be thinking this; they were strangers who knew everything about each other, they were friends who still had so much to learn about the other. They knew each other's secrets, and yet who knew what else the other still kept. Once, they had been reluctant comrades and companions, together with each other only out of necessity, and now what were they? Lovers? It seemed ridiculous to even think so, and yet part of it felt so right. The rest they would have to discover as they went along.

Clothing fell to the floor above their bare feet, and the water, streams below them, rain above them, played a background to their scene. Their warm breath fogged up the glass even more; Demi memorized every muscle, every counter of his.

Whatever doubts they held, whatever jealousies or frustrations, it was forgotten. All it was, was rain and skin and exploration and want. Want for more. Nothing was held back; it was rash and beautiful and desperate and not enough. When both were finally clawing for air, they remembered the water and, still holding each other, stumbled to turn it off.

Now, with the loudness of the pattering and thundering of the water gone, things seemed much more quiet, calm. Real.

"Hi," Demi said softly, breathing hard, feeling happy and pleasantly sore all over. Her blue and green eyes had never looked more beautiful. Water droplets clung to her lashes. Atton smiled fondly and pulled her closer into his arms for a deep, long kiss that left them both shuddering and clinging to each other for the vanished warmth the water had once held. Demi realized that her heart wasn't the only one thudding hard in its chest.

"Hey," Atton replied huskily, quietly, and this time it was Demi's turn to smile.

Was something sealed in blood now? Was this it? How did they end? Suddenly, both felt ten years younger, uncertain and shy.

"I'm…" Atton began, unable to convey what he felt.

"Yeah," Demi whispered, and Atton began to stroke her wet hair. It was frizzy and damp and messy now and he didn't care at all. She swallowed and closed her eyes, finally at peace. "Me too."

And then, she stood more on her tip-toes and in a heated whisper said the last three words that she needed to say, the ones she wanted to say, the ones that echoed back his words from a year ago. Atton's heart swelled in pride, a happiness and fulfillment that, at the same time, filled him with a sorrow he couldn't explain. All he knew was that he held her tighter and kissed her again.

And this time, both were thankful that there was no more need for words.

Just then, they heard the far-off sliding door open and somebody bustle in and drop what sounded like foot rations on a counter. Instantly, Demi and Atton froze.

"Good evening, younglings!" the newcomer called. "Where are you?"

"It's the lady!" Atton hissed, and both scrambled apart and searched for their missing clothing items on the floor. Sounds of, "That's mine!" erupted into the air and they accidentally hit their heads against the others more than once, followed by hushed exclamations of, "Sorry!"

The footsteps were fast approaching. Right as the healer reached it, the door of the kolto shower came sliding open of its own accord. Demi was in front, hair askew, breathing hard, and she stepped out, followed closely by Atton.

"I—I like your shower," she managed to say, before blushing bright pink and quickening her pace.

"Yeah, it-it's great," Atton said, and followed her.

The old lady turned and looked at their retreating figures, a bemused expression on her face. "Younglings," Pexelia said, shaking her head. when, exactly, did you decide this?"

Mira's voice rose over the mumblings of agreement or uncertainty, and seemed to echo up and down the length of the room. Everyone was there, and while the Jedi Masters sat in the chairs that formed a semi-circle, the circle was continued by Carth, Mission, and the rest sitting in similar chairs as well. Behind the heads of the Jedi Masters was Coruscant, a city now fully awake.

Carth sat in a chair that lay in shadows, watched a speeder far behind where Bastila sat, gliding and flying through the air. He found himself wishing that he could be there, up in the sky, not having to sit here imprisoned.

"Just after we received the holovid," Bastila was saying. "It was when I realized that the priorities I had been holding weren't exactly…"

Carth looked away and drowned the voices out, before realizing that everybody was now looking at him, expecting some sort of answer. He had not been following the conversation.

"I have nothing to say on this," he said, and resumed looking out the large windows. If he could have arrived late or not at all, he would have, but arriving late would attract more attention to him and right now, that was the last thing he wanted.

He felt Ian Pace, as well as his own son, watching him curiously, but he couldn't be bothered to return the gazes.

"Son," said Jolee, re-positioning himself in his chair, "we're all discussing about rescuing your precious Elaine from some undecided fate, and you have 'nothing to say on this'?" Jolee shook his head. "If my old wife was still alive, and not yet veiny or murderous or turn-on-you-traitorous, she would have something to say on the matter of _you._" Jolee harrumphed. "That you can count on."

"You're all here at Bastila's request, not mine. This meeting was not my idea."

"Well, what about the big rescue plan?" Mission wanted to know. "This is a big deal, Carth. Are you saying you're not for this at all, or are you?"

"I'm saying—" Carth found his voice rising with an anger he did not know himself to have, and luckily Dustil interceded.

"He's saying that, like all of us, he wants Elaine—and the galaxy—to be safe, but, also like all of us, he has some doubts." Dustil looked around the room expectantly. "And don't all of us have some doubts about this?"

_Thank you, son,_ Carth thought, as the room melted into silence and some mutterings.

"I'm not saying I don't have doubts about this too, because I do," Mission said, finding it hard to direct this at Dustil, so instead she said it to Zaalbar, who took it in understandingly. "But we've saved the galaxy before, right? And now, there are so many of us. We're all together. Don't you think we have a larger chance of—"

"That was before the disappearances of Demi, Atton, T3, HK, and Mandalore," Bao-Dur said quietly. With each name he said, hope seemed to drop a little. "Not to mention the fact that we no longer have the _Ebon Hawk._ Without the presence of them, their skills, and the transportation, I think taking on some Sith Empire in which more then half of the occupants are immortal, drops our ratio of winning quite a bit."

"Well, they're off trying to save Elaine too, aren't they?" Mission insisted. "Well, not Canderous, I don't know where the Candy-Man really is, but, we know the location of Demi. They're all on Nar Shaddaa. Couldn't we meet up with them, join ranks, and—"

"And what?" Mira said. "Say, 'Sorry that we let you go off into this big expedition all alone, and we have no idea what troubles or mess you have gotten into now, but now, many, many days later, we've changed our mind and think we might like to join this jolly journey altogether; sorry, we should have told you and gone with you sooner?' Mission, I agree with you all the way, but we have no idea what they're doing right now. For all we know, they could be seriously hurt, and coming in at the, I don't know, the intermission like this seems a bit undecided, doesn't it? Like they go through all the scrap first, and only after they clear the way, we join in. Seems unfair."

"_If they are hurt,"_ Zaalbar said, _"it is our responsibility to be there to aid them. Unfair is unimportant."_

"I agree," Juhani said. "I think they'd rather be more glad that they have aid and are alive, instead of becoming annoyed at the fact that the situations are, as you put it, unfair."

"Look, I never said I didn't want to help them," Mira said angrily, flustered. "All I'm saying is, if I go into some life-threatening mission, and I'm all beat-up and dirty, then all of you come storming in at the last minute, all glowing and unhurt and beautiful and _you_ save the day, I'd be a bit more begrudging rather than thankful."

"But begrudging and alive, rather than dead and gone, doesn't it seem a bit more appealing?" Mical said pointedly. Mira glared daggers at him.

"Maybe that's the wrong word, but…" Ian swallowed. "Their pride may be hurt, but they're our only way after Nausuma and…my mother, so I'm saying I'm all for it." He was tempted to add, 'Their pride be damned,' but withheld.

"Oh, I forgot," Mission said softly, eyes wide. "You're her son, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Ian said, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Yeah, I am. And I don't care if everybody thinks me coming in now is unfair, or whatever. I care about her, so I'm going after her. But I can only go if Carth goes, because she made me promise to look after him. So what's the verdict, sir?"

He turned to look at Carth, who was deep in thought. _Such conviction and determination he has…Two traits I should have._ Finally, Carth met his eyes and said two words.

"I'm going."

"I suppose it is settled, then," said Visas, who had been quiet during the whole meeting. Her voice, although soft, wasn heard by all. "But I go where the wind blows, where my leader calls. If Demi is in trouble, I would like to be in the same trouble with her, not watching from afar."

"Well said," Griff said, clapping his hands together. "Meeting adjourned, then. I suppose I'll just watch the home base while you all go after the two lady Jedi…"

"I hardly think so, Griff Vao," Bastila said, standing up. "You are coming with us. You know much about immortal water, clones, and this strange company of yours. Your knowledge will be much needed."

"Yeah," Griff sighed, falling back into his seat. "Yeah, I hear that a lot. I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"We'll be taking two ships," Bastila said. "We'll decide who goes with whom later. We'll all be heading in the same direction. Meanwhile, we need to prepare, and one of us should contact Demi and ask her to use HK to unlock the coordinates to Nausuma. And we should also question as to why she's in Nar Shaddaa at all."

"I can do that," Bao-Dur said, and they all started standing up to take leave.

"Good. Yes, I've heard of this new invention of yours. Carth—"

"I'll get the two ships," he said.

"Good," Bastila said again, relieved. She had been worried about him for some time. "Thank you."

Carth was the first to leave the room. And as he left, he wondered exactly who, aside from Elaine, he was doing this all for. Because he hardly knew.

"We leave tomorrow," Bastila decided, and that was that.

_**::.Nar Shaddaa.::**_

Far off, the sounds of pots clanging and food sizzling were heard as Pexelia busied herself with making dinner in the small kitchen. But still, two voices spoke in hushed whispers.

"So you didn't kill her." Atton's voice was grave.

"No."

"What stopped you?"

"I don't know."

"Jedi sympathy? Yourself? You couldn't just leave her there, like she's done to so many others, all of whom are now dead? She almost killed us in that junk heap, and if it wasn't for the mishap in the poisonous tunnels, she would have! You do know that, if given another chance, she's not going to go as easy on you."

"I know. She was even nice enough to tell me herself and spare you the trouble."

"How like her. Okay, then. So why?"

The bed she sat on creaked beneath her as Demi stood up and stared straight at him as he paced up and down the infirmary. "I couldn't _not_ save her. And that's not the Jedi talking. It's me, Atton. Maybe it was foolish and stupid and perhaps, yeah, maybe I did feel a bit sorry for her. But I can't give you a clear, precise reason why I didn't kill her, other than the fact that I feel she deserves more."

Atton gave a loud, disbelieving noise, and turned away in frustration before coming back. Before he could go on, Demi interrupted.

"You had your own chances to end her life. So many, in fact. And yet you didn't take them, just like me. So perhaps you really understand why I didn't kill her, and perhaps I really don't have to explain myself, because perhaps you really already know why I didn't kill her, even if it can't really be put into words."

Atton just stared at her for a moment, before shaking his head and walking farther from her sight.

"Atton," Demi called after him. No answer. So she stood up, walked to him, and put two hands softly on either side of his face. "Listen to me. Remember that 'junk heap' you're talking about? The one where we were tied up and shot or poisoned—"

"I remember it vaguely," Atton said dryly.

"It was rundown and dirty, and I don't think that was just any random place she chose to bring us. That's where she lives. That's how she lives now."

"I guess that explains the handcuffs on the wall, then, if you get what I mean."

Demi didn't laugh. "That's not what I'm talking about. Atton, you keep saying the difference between you and her is that you feel sorry for all you've done, and she doesn't, but I think she's starting to. She's just too tangled in all this to get out."

"Dem, how would you know?" Atton exclaimed, taking down her hands. "Have you ever done anything so bad that it kept you awake at night, tugging at your conscience? Have you ever truly done something so horrible, that you can still feel the blood of all the innocents you killed, hear their screams slowly fade away, just like they did the day they died right before your eyes, at your very own hand? Look at you! You walk the path of the Jedi, you've done anything wrong before in your life!"

Demi cast her eyes down and didn't speak for a long moment, but when she finally did look up at him, her eyes were on fire.

"Oh, Dem," Atton said slowly, realization dawning upon him. "Demi, I'm so stupid. I wasn't thinking. I forgot, if you can imagine that…" Then it struck him that perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say.

"It's okay," Demi said softly, more automatically than anything else, and drew away. Her eyes had lost the magic they had held earlier, and now just looked tired and haunted. "Sometimes I wish I could forget too. But that's the point. I can't. To make up for it all. But you get what I mean, right? All that you just described…I really do believe Renee feels it too. The…the killing of countless others, most or all of whom did not deserve to die. But they did—because we ordered it. Willingly, because it was the only thing to do. Even though I…we knew what it would mean. Innocent lives ruined and lost, and our souls held in hostage as we try to repent for what we did every single day. And maybe…the worst part is that sometimes, when I—we—really think about it, we don't think we would take any of it back. Or maybe we do, but we know we can't. We've looked death and guilt and war in the eye and made our choices. It's too late. But not for everyone. Do you…" She wet her lips and paused. "You know what I mean, don't you?"

"More than I wish I did," Atton replied. "Look, Dem, I…What you just said…You're laying down a lot of credits on the table because of this. This—this faith, in Renee. I wish I had it, I really do, but not everyone feels remorse, Dem. You've gotta believe me."

Demi did not reply, just looked over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of Pexelia still working, happily, humming a tune. Former caretaker of Ian Pace, she was an elderly lady, with her gray hair tied up in a knot. Her hands were strong and tough as leather, used to hard work. There was nobody else in the healing center, just her and Atton and Demi.

"I'm not sure what I really believe anymore," Demi said quietly.

They heard the sound of running water as Pexelia washed her hands and then came to them.

"I do believe I've forgotten to tell you my name," Pexelia said. "And that young man did nothing to remind me about it. I'm Pexelia, but just call me Pex. Now, while the soups getting ready, let's take another look at the both of you. Do your wounds still hurt? Don't answer that; let me find my ointments…and bandages….and…." Her voice become undecipherable as she headed down the long row, a purpose in her step. Demi had exchanged a glance with Atton.

"Nice lady, isn't she?" he said. "Sort of just breezed past by us. But her ointment, that's something else. I don't know what she uses. Why don't you try and steal her recipe before we go, Dem? It's really—"

"I heard that, young man! I'm not so deaf yet!"

Demi smiled fondly. "I like her already."

"Why, thank you." Pexelia came back into their view, carrying a kit of supplies in her grasp. "Of course, you don't know a thing about me, so whatever would cause you to say that?"

"Well," Demi started to say, looking at Atton hesitantly, then back at Pex. "If you really want to know, I just meant that I can see into your heart, and I can see that you're a good person." Demi smiled. "When I'm older, I hope that I'm as strong as fiesty as you are."

"Oh, so I'm old now, am I?"

But there was a twinkle in her eye as she said that, and Demi could tell she was touched. Pex ushered her towards the bed and inspected the rashes on Demi's leg, the knife cut on her back, and the arm where she had been shot, rubbing ointment over each wound with a practiced hand. The ointment was calming and smelled of herbs and mint. Then, she gave Atton something to drink that would supposedly clean his system of the poison.

"You're both fine," she said at the end of all of it, with a self-assured tone. "I've seen worse and I have a feeling that both of you have too. You're both strong, and you're both fine now. The best thing you can do is have something hearty to eat, and have a good night's sleep. I won't ask why your bodies were in the street when I was conveniently walking by, or how you managed to get poisoned, stabbed, and shot all in one night, for this is Nar Shaddaa after all. You were in a horrible state when I found you, but even in quiet places like Dantooine, where I lived for many of my years, accidents are bound to happen. Like young Jedi giving birth. Anyway, take care, both of you. I'll be further down the hall if you need me, back in the kitchen. I'm still busy cooking that small meal for all of us; you're my only patients tonight. It won't be anything special. Just vegetable soup, meat sauteed with a garlic and mushroom sauce, some steaming hot, fresh bread, and some maple and nut pie with a side of cream thrown in just for the heck of it. Sound bearable?"

"I love this lady!" Atton proclaimed, and Pexelia took that as a yes.

Now, it was just Atton and Demi again. Demi stared down at her hands as though searching for something there, her thoughts too many to fully grasp hold of.

"Leo," she said suddenly, standing up. "And Brianna. Force, I can't believe…They've been far from my mind and they're the most important thing right now. It's one of those things where something is just swimming under your subconscious, so close, that you overlook it." She looked around for her belongings. "I have to go check on them."

"Tell me you're at least going to eat first. Force knows how long we've been without real food. And…and can you smell that?" Atton deeply inhaled the comforting, flavorful scent coming from where Pexelia was cooking. "How can anyone sane resist that?"

"You forget. To be in this job, I can't be sane at all." Demi smiled wistfully. She looked around for her belongings. "Stay here. I'll be fast."

"What are you talking about? You're going, I'm coming with."

"No." Demi hesitated, as though she had heard something far off, then shook her head and continued. "I just…I have this instinct. I…need you to stay here. Just in case. Something feels like its gone terribly wrong."

"Well, now, I really can't resist that offer, can I?" Atton shrugged on his Jedi robes. "Like I said, where you go, I go."

"Atton," Demi said quietly, but firmly, and nodded at Pexelia. "Stay here. For her. It's not safe at this time, and we can't both leave, not after all she's done for us. She's expecting us to stay, so at least one of us should. And…protect her. Just in case."

"Okay…New proposal. I say you stay, and I go."

"Atton…" Demi began.

"Alright, alright, I know that tone. I'm backing off. It's just the ship. It's not that far. But if you're planning on doing something crazy, just promise me this."

"What?" Demi looked up at him. His eyes looked somber.

He was silent for a moment, pulling on his fingerless gloves. He closed and re-opened his fist a couple of times, as though reveling in that familiar feel, then he said, "Don't make me have to end up like Carth."

"What?" Demi repeated, although this time it came out as a whisper.

Atton locked eyes with her. "You know, waiting. Feeling all usefulness gone as he waits, just for her. It's all he thinks about. Feeling time just draw on and on, things getting older. I'm not trying to…I mean, I know you have things that need doing. Galaxy saving, and all. Just…you know what I mean. Be careful."

Demi looked at him for a moment, then came close to him and kissed him softly. "I'll be back." She headed to the sliding door.

"This century or the next?" Atton called after her.

"Depends on the traffic," Demi said softly, eyes twinkling in humor. Then, hair tied up, Jedi robes back on, and lightsaber on belt, she was gone.

She activated her Stealth Field Generator, and strode with a purpose towards the _Ebon Hawk_. In just a few moments, she was there. And then, the feeling of forboding she had felt a mile away was before her, the evidence all around.

She stood in the main hold, near Brianna's still body, as well as near HK and T3, who were not responding to her at all. They stood still and rigid and straight up, but it was as though they were frozen, their programs shut down, and Demi knew there was nothing she could do, for her skill with the hydrospanner was practically non-existent. Leo was nowhere to be found.

She stood there for a moment, taking it all in with shock, counting her mistakes, wondering if she had expected this and if she had, whether she could have done something to prevent it. However, she quickly got back to work. On the table where she had left it, was her own datapad to Leo. 'Gone to find Atton. Will be back. Take care. Demi.' She didn't know when she had written it that it would take her so long to 'be back.' Now look at what happened as a cause of that.

And then, she found something that had not been there before. A thin slip of white paper lay on the ground. Hesitantly, Demi looked down at it. On it were printed words:

VC Lab#2301 lvl: -20. Care.: Dr. Freya. Spec.: visanherb. Use: #A264 (search: med.)

Demi frowned, and read it over and over until she had memorized it. Then, she left it where she had found it.

Near the ramp, she found a small listening device pinned on the ceiling, but didn't touch it or disable it, because if she did, they'd know she had been there. She wondered how many there were. She had already counted seven others.

Then, Stealth Field Generator still on, she hurried back to the the Healing Center.

_::.Later.::_

The dinner (or, really, small feast) was over now, but Demi treasured every moment of it. Warm food going around, cheery talk, everything felt normal and happy for once. It felt like they were a family, and they did this every night.

However, she had not forgotten about Leo, the droids, the ship, or Renee. An intuitive feeling hit her that tonight they would stay here, for their ship was no longer safe, not now that it was under the watch of Vincentii. Atton had asked how things were aboard the ship; if White-Haired Boy was alright. Demi had answered readily, hated herself for lying.

Once everyone was asleep, there were things she had to do. She needed to take action. And she knew who to ask.

Atton was asleep nearby, content, tired, and for the moment, unworried. She would let him stay like that. He had a right to be, and for now, she had things that needed doing without him. Earlier she had been there, beside him, and he had turned to look at her, before running his knuckles tenderly up and down her cheek. His eyes were so deep and full of some strong emotion, and it enveloped her like a blanket. Demi noticed small scars near his eyes she hadn't noticed before, but then she closed her eyes and focused fully on the feeling. When he lowered himself upon her and kissed her deeply, Demi let down her hair and for a few moments, let her senses run free, because that was how it was supposed to be. But then, slowly, she disentangled herself from him.

"Maybe someday when the galaxy's not in danger from murderesses and big strange companies and planets with an endless supply of magical, immortal water and evil Sith planning to use it." Demi smiled. "Okay?"

With a loud sigh, Atton lay back down on the bed, hands supporting his head. "Oh, yeah. Sure. That'll be soon."

Demi had laughed, had been happy.

There had been quiet for a few moments, and just as Demi rolled over to turn off the only light left on, he had said, "Promise me you'll tell me about it someday."

"What?"

"Malachor." He stared up at the ceiling as he said this, and didn't blink. "I want to share the burden, take some of the weight, whatever you want to call it. You know, sometimes I get the feeling, because of all we've been through, we're really just these old people, trapped in young bodies. And we're just…We're tired. You know?"

"Yeah," Demi whispered. "I get that. I do."

He knew she did. And then, she turned off the light.

She waited until his heart beneath her ear slowed into a repetitive, consistent beat. Knowing he was now asleep, she got up lightly, and disappeared into the darker parts of the Healing Center, about as deep as the kolto shower. There, she picked up a comm on the nearby counter and was about to transmit a call, when it blinked red all by itself. Someone was calling her. Alarmed, she hesitated before picking it up.

When she pressed the button, out spilled a hologram in the form of Bao-Dur that suspended in the air.

"Hello, General," he said, casual as you please.

At hearing Bao-Dur's voice, Demi felt like she wasn't that far from home and her other friends after all. "Bao!" she exclaimed, a smile forming on her face of its own will.

Pexelia, somewhere a few beds off, snored lightly in her sleep.

Lowering her voice, Demi whispered, "Why are you calling? How did you know where I was?"

"A tracking device of sorts. General, a lot's going on back here."

"A lot…" she echoed. "What do mean by that?"

"Forgive me, but there's a favor Bastila is asking of you. More like an obligation, honestly. In the communications room on the _Hawk_ we need you to—"

"Bao, I can't. It—It's complicated. A lot's going on here, too. I can't go to the ship right now. I'm sorry."

"Is there something I should know, General?"

Demi could hear the unasked question: 'What are you doing in Nar Shaddaa, anyway?' but she didn't have time to explain. "It's just…It's not safe now. The _Hawk's_ under surveillance. I'd rather not risk anything. At least, not until I finish something. Bao-Dur, are you listening to me?"

"Always, General."

"I need to talk to Griff Vao. I'm in a bit of a hurry. Is he there?"

"Griff?" the Iridonian repeated, and he could hear the skepticism in his voice. "Yes, he's here. I'll try to get a hold of him."

"Thank you, Bao-Dur." The tech's holographic form wavered, and, a bit desperately, Demi added, "Bao?"

He returned.

"Yes, General?"

Demi closed her eyes, remembering everything they had gone through together, during the Wars and after. He had been her anchor, and always had been. "You know you're my best friend, right?" was what she said.

Demi could hear the sincerity in his voice and see it in his eyes.

"I'll be whatever you want me to be, General."

Although she wasn't sure why, tears started forming in her eyes. "Thank you, Bao-Dur." _That means a lot to me_.

"I'll get Griff for you," he replied. "Good-bye, General."

He disappeared.

Demi exhaled as though a great burden had been taken off her chest just by talking to him, and waited for the moment when she would hear another voice.

"This is Griff," a nonchalant voice said, and a twi'lek appeared as a small hologram before her.

"Hey, I'm sorry for calling so late, but…"

"Nah, it's fine. I couldn't sleep anyway. What's up?"

"My name's Demi. I don't know if you know me, but Atton told me—"

"Are you kiddin'? Demia Thress, right? You're famous around here. Everything that's happening over here is because of you."

Demi hesitated. "What exactly is going on over there?"

There was a pause. "Uh…heh heh. Just a figure of speech. So Bao said you needed me?"

"Yes…" Demi was suspicious, but decided more important things came first. "I have a question, as well as a favor to ask. Have you heard of something called 'visanherb' before?"

"Oh. Huh. Let me think." There was a brief intercession as Griff hummed a melody to himself, deep in thought. Feeling as though she was on hold and somebody was playing horrible 'waiting' music, she waited patiently, until Griff exclaimed, "Ah-hah! Thought it sounded familiar. It's a type of medicine, I believe. All liquid. Discovered not too long ago, actually. I shipped a few crates to Yashel, this herb guy in Nar Shaddaa when I was working for V—" Nervously, he quickly double-tracked. "Actually, I wasn't working. Furthermore, it wasn't me. In fact, this is a friend's story who did a favor for some random person once and she doesn't recall this. At all."

"Don't worry, Griff. I know. Vincentii right? But do they own this, this 'visanherb'? And what exactly does visanherb do?" There was a pause, as Demi listened to his response. "No, I won't tell anyone you told me."

Demi listened intently to his next answer. "Right. Thank you very much, Griff. You've helped a lot."

"No prob. So…is that all? What was the other thing you needed?"

"Oh, right." She took a deep breath and checked to see if Atton was really asleep. This was one thing she had to do without him. And so, she began her request.

"I need a favor. Favors, actually. And I need them fast."

_**::.Later, in Nar Shaddaa.::**_

Renee was left to clean up the blood and the glass from the chandelier and everything else that had been left behind after the fight. But the more and more that she scraped away at the blood, the more impossible it seemed for it to go away, until finally she gave a cry of frustration and threw her towel at the wall.

She was going to move. They had seen this place, knew where she was, now she needed to leave and never come back. She didn't have much to pack, honestly, and it took less than a minute to shove everything she owned into a decrepit bag. It took less than a minute, and so she dwindled, looking around at this room that had definitely not been a home, and yet, until the day before, had been her own. And that in itself was a miracle.

Briefly, she closed her eyes and rested her head against one of the walls, breathing deeply. _I wish…_ she began, then stopped herself.

When there came two knocks on her door, she immediately looked up in alarm. Nobody except two people, and maybe Voren, knew she was here. It couldn't be…could it? She looked around. There was only one exit. Whoever was behind the door had stopped knocking; now, was just waiting. The idiot didn't know the lock had already been broken.

She felt like telling whoever it was to stuff their head down an ion engine and get run over by a horde of kath hounds while they were at it, but unfortunately, the silence at the door spread out like a vast ocean and curiosity was starting to get the better of her—perhaps more than persistant, insistant knocking would have.

There was only one thing to do.

_**::.The other side of the door.::**_

The door opened, and Renee filled the frame. Her brown hair fell in long, messy curls and her emerald eyes narrowed at the newcomer. Demi looked behind her and through the door to see the place practically empty, except for a bag. So she was leaving.

Demi had expected a jesting taunt, but what she got surprised her.

"I don't have time for this," was what Renee said. Her voice, her face, everything was unfriendly, cold, and hateful. "Or you. Or Jaq. Or anyone. If one beating isn't enough for you, that's your glitch. Me, I'm good. In fact, I'm _great_." She lowered her face to Demi's, so they were only a few inches apart. "You want to know why? Because I've finally figured out what will make me happy."

"I'm not going to ask," Demi said, everything about her still, her eyes steely and sharp.

"Oh, sweetie." Renee tossed her head back and laughed. "You won't have to. I can _show_ you!"

Demi had no time to react. In one vigorous thrust, Renee plunged a dagger she had been holding right into Demi's stomach. Slowly, Demi looked up at Renee's unforgiving eyes, clutching the handle, as blood poured out of her middle, and out of her mouth as well. She staggered backward and Renee stepped forward, her silhouette impending further down the wall, closing the distance, before viciously twisting the dagger and ripping it out. A cry fell from Demi's lips as she crumpled in a heap to the floor.

"Learn to block, darling," Renee told her. "It helps. It really does."

Demi was stronger than most, and so she lay there, breathing hard, for a long time, as Renee stood over her, not saying anything, just watching.

"You still don't understand, do you?" Demi whispered suddenly, wincing with the effort. "Why I came back. Why any of us…" She shuddered, gasped hard, as a trickle of blood escaped her mouth… "come back."

"You're down on the floor and dying, and you're still cryptic like a Jedi." Renee smiled, twistedly, but almost fondly. "You'll never change, Demi."

Demi just laughed hoarsely, inhumanely, as the laughs dissolved into shivers, and she finally remained still.

Renee stood frozen for a moment, before leaning over and checking Demi's pulse, her heartbeat, her breathing. There were no Jedi tricks Demi could perform this time. A minute passed, and Renee knew. She stood above her conquest with no triumphance, just solemnity.

Demia Thress was dead.

"What a waste," Renee muttered, kicking at Demi's fallen body, re-sheathing her dagger, and lighting a cigarra out of habit. "Geez-us. What was she thinking?"

She saved one look for Demi's face; her eyes were still open, the piercing green and blue staring through Renee as though with amazing clarity. A smile lingered on her face. Renee shut the eyes none too gently, and dragged Demi by the ankles back into the room. Now what to do? Renee was used to killing and leaving, leaving with the feeling that somebody was going to chase her and hunt her down, but she'd be able to take it when it came. Now, she could leave, but she wasn't sure she'd like to leave any evidence behind. She looked around the room toward the plasteel container, and then at the lighter in her own hand. Then, she knew what she would have to do.

She didn't take any time to analyze her own feelings; if she felt relieved or uneasy or restless or fine about the fact she was going to see Demi's body, burn, burn, burn. And the fact that Jaq couldn't do anything to stop it. She wondered if he would try. If he even knew Demi had come to see her.

"What a liar you are, Renee."

At this, Renee immediately stood back up, and stood there, wavering, frozen for a moment. The voice was coming from out into the hall; the door hadn't been closed yet.

"You said that if you saw me again, you'd put the nearest sharp object straight into my heart."

As though in a dream, Renee walked towards the door, with one hand on it, ready to slam it shut if need be, to keep the ghosts out.

Demi stood at the end of the long hall, outside in the night air, perfectly still, and perfectly unharmed. "Didn't you." She spoke with a finality in her tone.

The cigarra suddenly felt very dry on Renee's lips. She dropped it to the ground and smudged it out. She looked at the alive Demi down the hall, and the very dead Demi behind her on the floor.

"Sure the basic idea was accomplished, but…" Demi gave a wry smile. "You still….missed. I'm a bit disappointed in you, Renee. Didn't you think that killing me would be just a little bit harder?"

She disappeared around the corner just as realization hit Renee, and just as a dagger came flying down the long hall towards where Demi just had been, spiralling over and over in the air, before the blade hit the wall to the right of the doorway, and remained there.

Renee stood there, breathing hard for a few seconds, before sprinting down the corridor, pulling the dagger back out of the wall, and disappearing after Demi in the night.

Demi ran, thoughts running through her head like lightning, planning the thing out and wondering, at the same moment, if she wasn't completely insane. She could hear Renee coming after her. She ran with long strides, gaining ground, while Demi had faster, shorter steps. But Renee was still fast. Very fast.

Demi suddenly made a sharp turn left and hurled herself over a gate, landing on the other side and cushioning her fall with a roll onto her shoulder, before getting up on her two feet. There were a set of stairs which she took three at a time, feeling a sense of urgency with every step she took. So she had a plan formulated out. It wasn't the best plan ever by a longshot, but there was a certain feeling about it. Instinct. Necessity. Hopefully none of it would go wrong.

"Demi!" screamed Renee after her, her cry piercing the air like a sharp blade. Her steps quickened, the cold and chill of the night meant nothing to her. She felt nothing…Except for an overpowering desire to finally finish what needed to be done. What had to be done. Demi was the solution. With her dead, she would be free.

In no time at all she had scaled the fence and so the chase began. Demi's eyes, so focused, searched out the ideal place. She kicked down a wooden door, one that belonged to a shop that was obviously closed, and found herself in a room of machinery. Bronze and steel machines chugged and swished and billowed out steam, all looking strangely alien and unlike anything she had ever seen before. Blades chopped through the air before landing on conveyor belts, and instead of dicing, sharpened many other, smaller blades. Blades that you would definitely not find in a regular kitchen.

Blades meant to kill.

"Like it?" Renee grinned, coming up behind her. "One of Voren's many scattered workshops, ones he bought from the original owners. The owners—or former owners, rather—they still work here. And all their hard work lands in Voren's pocket in the form of credits. You gotta hand it to the guy. How persuasive is he, it makes you wonder, that he can persuade people to willingly give up their life business and profits to him, and keep it a secret? Or maybe they're just…not the sharpest dagger in the bunch."

She put her hand down on one of the conveyer belts and lifted one of them up, inspecting it as it glinted under the moonlight from one of the high windows. Then her gaze traveled to Demi, who appeared unarmed, versus Renee who had two daggers, and more hidden away.

"Yes, that's probably it," Renee said softly, running a finger almost caressingly down the dull side of the weapon. "Is that what you think of me, Demi? That you've somehow got me twisted up in this puzzle, this scheme of yours, and that I won't be able to figure out how to get out? Well, try this on for size. Exactly thirty-two minutes and eight seconds ago, the invisible sensor was triggered aboard your ship. An intruder, a ship stealer? No, Demi, I don't think so. And I'm not done. Exactly twenty-seven minutes and four seconds ago, a call was transmitted from Coruscant to Pexelia's Healing Center, and exactly two seconds later, somebody picked it up. Then you come to my place exactly three minutes ago, make a little friendly visit, and about a minute after, I kill you. And then, a minute later, you come back to life."

Renee's fingers tightened around the dagger. "Now you may have gotten dizzy with all the numbers I just threw at you, but working around Vincentii as long as I have, it doesn't take much to put all the pieces together. I put my blade right clean through you, Demi; I don't need to persuade you that I made damn sure of it. Now, there's only one way you could reappear in an entirely separate but identical body, completely alive. Got yourself an escaped employee named Griff Vao helping you clone yourself?" Renee chuckled, as though she didn't need an answer. "I wonder how you managed that, in so little a time as twenty-seven minutes and six seconds, with him not having any equipment let alone you, there. Even with a stray strand of your hair left behind acting as the DNA, a kolto tank for the procedure, and Griff's smarts, I don't think it's all that possible."

"There's many things you'll be wondering about me by the time I'm through," Demi said, her face revealing no expression.

"By the time you're through?" Renee laughed, tilting her head back. "Boy, Demi. That's a tad bit dark for you. I must be a bad influence."

Demi unfalteringly did not move her gaze from Renee. "I have questions."

"Well, welcome to the galaxy, Demi. But I'm guessing you're going for something a little bit different from, 'What is the meaning of life?'"

"Brianna," Demi said, a finality in her tone. "I know how to heal her and I'm asking you to help me."

At this, Renee let out loud explosive laughs, yet they were sinister and cold behind their comic exterior. "Oh, yes," Renee said in between tears. "My mortal enemy, let us join ranks and storm the fort! It doesn't matter that we've both tried to kill each other.—And that, theoretically speaking, I just succeeded. Let's just help each other anyway! Because of the fun!" The laughs ceased. "No, Demi," Renee said in a low voice. "You go alone."

"You dropped the paper about Brianna's medicine for a reason," persisted Demi. "That means you must want me to help us, even if you can't do it directly."

"Who says I left it there on purpose?" Renee said testily.

"Why would you be carrying that paper around otherwise?"

"Who said it was me who dropped it?" Renee's lip curled upwards into a smirk. "For your information, Demi, it's my job to know all about you, down to the eensiest detail about somebody's cure. My targets are that Echani woman, Jaq, White-Haired Boy, and you. Now, while you were so busy chasing after me, you left a certain scoundrel all by his lonesome. That means, Brianna—gone. Leo—gone. And Jaq―" Her voice trailed off, and a malevolent smile came across her face. "Taken."

"No," Demi whispered in horror.

Renee's hand crept behind her towards a button on a console.

"Always refusing to take what's fact as fact, always trusting, refusing to notice the trap she drew has trapped herself. That's what I've been trying to tell you all this time, haven't I? So you can't say I didn't warn you."

And she pressed the button.

Instantly, as the machines were programmed to do in case of a security emergency, the blades stopped their chopping and sharpening and drilling, and in one simultaneous motion, lifted upwards and pointed towards the sky. There was a pause, a brief intercession hung in suspense and anticipation. And then, they started spinning, faster and faster, all together, and Demi had barely rolled out of the way when the blade nearest her came close to her and made a whizzing motion that would have cut her in half had she not moved.

"Keep running," Renee whispered, and moved out of the way and into the shadows.

Demi slowly circled around, on guard. She was so bad with machines; she wouldn't be able to figure out how to switch the contraptions off for the life of her…Which would probably end up being the case if she didn't hurry.

She moved her eyes ever so slightly above her. An exit. There were glass windows high up there, and if she was able to get that high, she might be able to kick it open somehow…The blades had resumed spinning…She had to duck, roll, and skid over numerous numbers of them, although they were just a flash of silver as they neared her; and she didn't want to linger to find out more.

She jumped over a low, whizzing blade and caught the top part of the conveyer belt, which lifted her higher up as well. Then, blades came in front of her eyes, all in a row, and she had to alternate from her left hand to her right, like the pendulum of a clock, swinging precariously, to avoid getting hit.

Where was Renee? She had undoubtedly found an easier way out. But this whole trap was just meant to weaken Demi, not kill her. Renee would want to do that herself.

As the conveyer belt brought her nearer and nearer to the window, Demi took a deep breath, gathered momentum by one last swing, and flung forward, right foot first, and the glass shattered into a thousand of pieces.

Demi rolled over and over, unable to stop herself. She was on the rooftops now, over Nar Shaddaa. There was a slight breeze that chilled the air and ruslted her robes around her. She breathed hard, and saw herself coming near the edge of the shingled roof…_No,_ she thought, but no grasping did any good. The end came nearer and so did the lights of Nar Shaddaa…She let half of her body fall so that her hands could grasp tightly the edge of the roof. She knew she couldn't hold on for long.

"Careful," Renee said, nearing the edge as well. "You fall, and you'll be falling for a long, long time." She chuckled. "Well, at least you'll be dead before you hit the ground. That's what they say anyway. How about we find out?"

But before Renee could come any further, Demi lifted herself up using her arms even as they burned, and flipped her legs over so she landed above Renee on the roof. This whole thing was probably a bad decision. The rooftops were Renee's territory, the part of Nar Shaddaa she knew best. But it was too late now for regrets. They both knew that.

As she turned back to look at Renee, her blonde hair getting into her electric eyes, a blade came out of nowhere and Demi had to parry it quickly. She grabbed the wrist holding it, and loosened the grip on the dagger, so that it fell down through the broken glass window and into the workshop below. Renee then brought her hands up and controlled Demi's elbow, pushing her away and twisting it as Demi gritted her teeth to block out a cry of pain, before delivering a swift sidekick to Demi. However, Demi was able to maneuver out by twisting out herself, as though they were in a dance, and then pushed Renee on the shoulder so she rolled down hard with a snap. Then Demi stepped away and brought her hands up into a defensive position. It had only taken less than three seconds.

"You take my weapon but refuse to take the upper hand?" Renee spat, coming closer. "What is this, the training zone? It's me, and you, Demi, and you don't want to hold anything back." She grinned. "I guarantee you I won't be."

She made the first move in a lightning fast punch which Demi dodged, and then a round-house kick that reached as high as Demi's neck. Demi ducked it, and moved away.

"Running away again?" Renee taunted, gaining in on her. "Didn't we already finish that part? No matter." Her eyes glimmered in frustration, and narrowed. She needed this chase. She needed this kill. There had been so many easy, unworthy ones that were barely worth the effort. Lena, Larken, Voren's Sith that had gotten in her way…But this…If she accomplished this, for real this time…She didn't think about it. She wasn't there yet. But she would soon be.

They both ran up to each other and reached the very top peak of the roof, so narrow that footing was almost impossible and balance hard to regain. They came up close and it was hand to hand fighting; this time Demi responded, but only for blocking, never hitting. Renee threw kick after kick; scorpion, round-house, crescent, all in a row one after another, but Demi was fast and so they never reached her. The way she was fighting seemed cut off, so focused, almost automatic. That wasn't the way Renee wanted it. She wanted to hear Demi's heart pounding insanely mad in fear, hear her gasp for air as she attempted to get out of Renee's reach, wanted her to put everything she had into this fight…But Demi wasn't doing either or any. She wasn't backing away, but she wasn't fighting either.

"Come on!" Renee said through gritted teeth, almost screaming. "Fight me! Fight me like the Jedi I know you are! _Come on!_"

Renee's knee came bounding up toward's Demi's face; she knocked it aside, blocked Renee's elbow by controlling it and pushing it away, and rolled beneath the outstretched arm so the fist missed her by inches.

They skidded back down the roof, and met each other again in a whirl of fists and brief flashes of fiery eyes from the other. Renee did everything she could; a sweeping kick, grabbed Demi's wrists, tried to knee her again to the stomach, but Demi twisted out her wrists the other way so they got free, blocked the knee that morphed into a kick, and moved to the other side of the roof. They mirrored each other's positions now, and Demi stood calmly, evenly, almost serenely on the other side.

"_Do something!_" Renee yelled at the person who she could not hurt, at the person who refused to fight, at the person who was frustrating her to her wit's end. Didn't she understand? A thousand punches, a thousand kicks, a thousand put downs, a thousand past mistakes…In the end it was all the same. Why not add another one? Add insult to injury?

"Hurt me!" Renee yelled. "Give it to me, Demi! _Why won't you?_"

A dagger was unsheathed, and Renee was suddenly only a few inches from Demi. The dagger sliced through the air, and Demi, in a moment that involved completely no thinking, bent backwards to avoid it. Renee, ferocious and boiling in anger, smashed the the top of her forehead against the bridge of Demi's nose when she resurfaced.

Demi reeled backwards and before she had even fallen, Renee took the advantage and thrust her hand forward and closed upon Demi's throat. The dagger was held high in the other hand, the point glittering dangerously. For a moment, on the rooftops above Nar Shaddaa, the two figures both stood, afraid to breath, waiting for the other to make the first move.

"I've already died, Renee," Demi whispered. "You've already killed me. Do you really want to kill me again? Do you hate me that much?" Renee did not answer; the moment drew out. "Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think you do, Renee. Perhaps, some days, I want to die just like you always wish you would. Perhaps you've saved me from having to make a tough decision."

"Yeah, you've really got it hard, don't you, Demi?" Renee said, gritting her teeth and tightening her grip. "Beautiful, innocent, kind, hard-working, strong, wise, _loved_ Jedi General Demia Thress. You may have killed people, but everyone's so willing to overlook that fact, aren't they? You're so perfect, you're so clean. Forget blowing up millions of your own free choice, why don't we just award you with a heroic medal, anyway?"

"I'm overlooking your choices now," Demi replied softly, placing her hands over the one Renee had around her neck. She could get out of it if she wanted to, but this was the only way Renee would understand. A bit of blood trickled down and reached her upper lip. "They were yours, and yet they weren't. I don't blame you for anything, Renee. It wasn't your fault."

"You don't know anything," Renee snarled. Somewhere far off, they heard sirens sounding in Nar Shaddaa. "I know what I am. I accept it. But you refuse to believe in anything that isn't just and right and holy, because that's just not how you want the world to be. Well, that's honorable, Dem. Or just plain naïve. Either way, I see myself for the way I am. And I see the world for the way it is."

"The world," Demi said, gesturing around at the glittering lights below them, and the smoke in the air, "is not all like this, Renee! You've been around, I know that, but if you just opened your eyes, you'd see."

"Well, I don't know of this world you're talking about!" Renee yelled. "You think that if I just open my eyes I little bit wider, that would really change the way that _it_ viewed me? The way that Jaq thought of me? That's Jedi talk being fed to you there. And oh, by the way, I see," Renee said, her emerald eyes darkening like the eye of a tornado, rain on the brink of a storm. "I see everything real clear. Clearer than you think."

Her thumb tightened right over Demi's pulse; Renee felt her stiffen, and then felt Demi lose tenseness, as though she had given herself up to a certain undeniable fate. Renee herself staggered back, although she did not let go, and felt her own breathing stop, as though in surprise.

"Too late," Demi whispered, gasping, and Renee held her gaze for one halting moment. Time seemed to stop. Then, Renee looked down to see a double-bladed silver lightsaber ignited, sticking through the middle of the both of them. Unreal.

"What?" Renee gasped, her hand still clenched around Demi's neck.

Demi turned off the lightsaber, and both fell down upon the roof, breathing hard. Blood fell like a liquid, red carpet about them. It was sickening.

"W-Why?" Renee managed to say. Weaker and weaker…She couldn't believe it was finally over now. "I mean, why you as well?"

Demi was quiet for a while, finding it hard to think, each breath laborious to her. "I cared enough." Then, she erupted into violent coughs. "Perhaps you may find it funny, Renee, to know that sometimes, I feel the same way as you about some things. The same…emptiness."

Renee suddenly laughed, harshly. How ironic this all was. Too late, indeed. And so she laughed. Over and over, louder and louder, until it turned into groans and groans of pain. The stars above began to diminish. It was time to tell the truth. "I never wanted you to die, Demi," Renee whispered. "I just…I wanted you to feel my pain."

"I feel it," Demi said, closing her eyes. "I feel it, Renee."

"I wish that―"

But Renee never was able to finish, because her eyes caught on something. Stars. Her emerald eyes fixated on them, stars she had seen every night yet had never fully looked at before. How they twinkled and shone, even through the dark and the pollution of this planet. How beautiful.

Her breathing finally slowed. Then it stopped. But Demi wouldn't have been able to hear her anyway, for her eyes were already closed, and her world completely dark. For good.

Far away, in Nausuma, a man was laughing.

"Demi?" Griff's voice sounded from a comm that lay discarded on the floor. "Dem? Hell-o-oh? What favors did you want? Demi? Favors are my favorite things! I can do favors. Especially if they involve credits. To me."

Silence.

"Damn. Connection lost," he muttered to himself.

"Griff," Demi said suddenly, waking up, and snatched up the comm.

"Ah-hah-hah!" Griff exclaimed. "The princess awakes. What the hell happened back there?"

Demi looked around. She was back in Pexelia's healing place. How long had she been there? Had she even ever left? "How long was I gone?"

"'Bout a minute. Why?"

Demi, wordlessly, reached down to her stomach, which was, luckily, not impaled and never felt like it had ever been so. There was no blood. No pain. No…anything.

"Demi?" Griff repeated. "You gotta stop doing this to me. Are you there? So what happened?"

_I don't know,_ Demi thought in wonder. Then, remembering he was still on the line, said, "Sorry. It's, uh, been a real long day. I think I just…um…dozed off." Which, it appeared, must have been true.

"Oh," Griff said glumly, unimpressed. He sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, people do tend to do that in my presence."

"Sorry," Demi said quickly. "I'm just…"

"Tired, I know. So, hey, what about that favor you wanted? Or, as you said, fave-_ors_?"

"I…" she swallowed, looked around. It was still dark. Apparently, none of what she thought had happened had actually happened. Had it all been a dream?

Then, she remembered what Renee had said. Atton. Panic once again seized her heart.

"I need to be somewhere," she mumbled to Griff, and hung up.

Down the long hall she ran, to the bed where his shape had been not too long ago. Or had it been long ago? She didn't know. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before, in expectation, hoping the worst had not occurred…

As she neared the exit, she got her answer.

The Renee in the dream had not lied.

Atton was gone.

_**::.Later.::**_

Down the narrow hall, she drifted, among the many pipes and vents, invisible this time, with the help of the Stealth Field Generator. On the door she knocked, one, two, three times. No answer. She knocked again. Nothing. Finally, she tried the doorknob. She had remembered it was open, but had hoped someone would open it of their own accord.

The room was empty.

_**::.Renee's point of view.::**_

_I left before you arrived. I never told you, and you'll never know, but I'll tell you now, even though you can't possibly hear me. And if you can, then, girl, you've got to lower your Jedi radar. It's getting on my nerves. _

_Anyway._

_I don't know what happened. If it was a dream, if it was real. Maybe a bit of both. I can still feel myself inside that dream. Everything in that dream, I would have done. I would have killed you the first time, I'm sure of it. But in case you were wondering, yes, I did have the dream too. Whatever it was, anyway. _

_Thoughts whirl in my head. How I gave myself, my secret away. Weakness. That's what it was. And you, of course, would never have been so stupid as to kill yourself. Me, maybe, but definitely not you._

_Or perhaps you would have spared me too. You already have once. I would have left myself to rot, honestly. Both times. I don't get you. But for that brief moment, lying there on that godforsaken roof, I thought for a moment that I did. _

_But you should know…I never wanted you to die, Demi. I just…I wanted you to feel my pain. I wish that all of this had never happened. All I ever wanted…It was too much. I see that now. I don't like how things have to change. Why is everything always moving, never settling? Things people felt a few seconds ago, now gone. Emotions mean nothing, the truth doesn't mean anything, in the end, at all. Nobody can ever make up their minds. Then you come in, making a hell of things, and I'm never sure if you're trying to make things more simple or more complicated. Why am I always caught in the middle, so easily persuaded? Why?_

_The lights in this city are cold, no matter how brightly they may shine.__ And everything I touch, it withers and dies. It's not fair. It's not fair. _

_I just thought you should know. My side. Now you never will._

_I wonder who'll keep your ass in line now. Try not to miss me, sweetums. _

_-Renee._

* * *

A/N: Whew. There we go. I'm sorry if it seems rather rushed; I did my best to edit it just enough so that it wouldn't take me another, uh, four months. I'm sincerely sorry for taking so long; I've just started school again so things are rather hectic. Anyway, all my thanks to those who are still keeping up with the story and letting me know what they think. :) You are the best. Also, all my sympathies and thanks to Jiara for practically breaking her back on this chapter, since it's so freaking long, like a novella. ;) Next chapter: Expect to see Demi with pink hair. You heard me. Cheers, 

-tWiNkLeT


	32. 31: Defiance

A/N: What I lack in punctuality I make up for in quantity. ;) haha Just kidding, it just sort of ended up this length. Sorry if your computer crashes. Anyway, here it is.

The Fate of the Wandering:

**Chapter 31: **Defiance

**T**he door hissed open and Renee strode through, a pack on her back, weapons on her belt, a glint in her eye. In one motion she slammed the pack down on the long desk and slid it over to the figure in the chair, even though his back was to her. The sound it made should have startled the old man, but it didn't, not even minutely.

"You and me," the assassin said, with no introduction. "We're done."

"Renee," Voren said pleasantly, yet there was a sinister knowing behind his voice. "A pleasure to see you've come to your senses and left behind that rotting hole in the ground you lived in. Welcome back."

"Are you not listening to me?" Renee said, frustrated. She gestured at the pack. "I'm done. We're done. Here's everything you've ever given me. It's yours, we're done. Now let me go."

Voren just laughed; laughed at her, laughed at all she was where she stood. She was full of temerity, still young and brash, and once again, making the stupid decisions he had hoped she was beyond making. "Is that what you think?" he said, smiling a wry smile. His hand lingered above the controls of his chair, waiting expectantly for what she would say next.

"That's right," Renee said, and her hand twitched in anticipation. She received no immediate reply. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, old man!" she yelled across the room.

Voren smiled. She was ever so predictable, even now. She got what she wished for. Voren turned around, slowly. She had not seen his face in so long. Even then, it had always been obscured by darkness, darkness so deep she could not see through it. Now they were finally looking at each other, face to face. Scarred person to scarred person.

Voren's high chair was not a chair at all, but a wheelchair. Renee had known this before, when they had first met, and yet she found herself thinking why she had let herself be controlled by this one insignificant man, one who could barely even walk yet alone fight? Why had he held so much power over her, then? Why did she let others take control of her so easily?

She saw all of the scars etched onto his face over the accumulated years. Years that he saw as his trophies. They may have been hell, they may have been torment incarnate to go through, but they were what had brought him here. Renee noticed that, although Voren was for certain an old man, there was a strength in his will, a sharpness in his mind that seemed to only increase with each passing day.

"So, you plan to attack me with that dart you are hiding beneath your sleeve. Me, a defenseless, old man. After all you've already done, it should be easy. And yet, you are hesitating."

"For a reason. Favor for a favor, you remember how we work, Voren? You started the cycle, after all. You freed me from those Jedi, took me in, introduced me to the best healing treatments, the best weapons, all to win me over. In return, I kill or capture everyone on your black list. A simple enough deal, right?" Renee shook her head. "Freedom in exchange for more imprisonment. Well, I've already gotten you five of those six you needed. But now, I'm done. You wanna kill someone? Then get your veteran ass up and do something about it. I'm not going to do it for you. Not anymore." She held up her sleeve, holding steadily a poisoned dart. "Now I'm gonna ask you again, Voren. Grant me one favor. _Let me go._"

"It's not me holding you here, little Renee," Voren said, chuckling. His voice was dry like cigarra smoke, his icy eyes cold, hair like wispy white feathers. His skin was wrinkled and marked with old battle scars on both forearms. "You come to me to free you, but I'm not the one holding the controls to make the planet free again. That's up to you, Renee. You could turn yourself in, do something honest for once in your life. Or you could finish what I told you to do in the first place. Then, and _only _then, as promised, would I leak information to the Republic, saying that you have already escaped. The Republic then would let down the seal and let us all go. You speak of cycles, Renee. Haven't you heard that cycles never end? We witness these patterns in history, the same mistakes repeated over and over again. Empires crumble, cities decay from within. So will we continue." Voren paused. "After coming so far, after coming so near to completing the one thing I have asked of you, you come here. You are surrendering right before the very last kill, Renee. You have come so somebody can tell you the truth about yourself. You want to hear someone aside from yourself tear you down and tell you the cold, hard truth."

He pushed a trigger on his wheelchair forward, so he whizzed slowly towards her on the opposite side of the table. Renee found herself wanting to step back all of a sudden, even though he was weak. Wasn't he? What could he do to hurt her? "You think I haven't noticed the change in you, Renee. I have. I've been watching more closely than you can ever comprehend. You are following a cycle yourself, after all. I've seen it before. Killers turning into sympathizers. The hunt begins to no longer mean anything for them. But what will you do, once you no longer have this to cling to? It is all you have ever known."

"Pick up that comm," Renee said steadily, still holding the dart, ready to aim it at him. "Call the Republic. Tell them what you promised. That I've already escaped. I'm released into the galaxy, heading for some unknown planet. If you get on that comm, it won't be too far from the truth. Don't make me ask twice, Voren!"

"You are a follower, Renee. First of Revan's, and now one of mine. You can cause death...You can take life. I wonder, Renee. Can you be the foundation of life as well? Or can you only take from it?"

Renee was breathing hard, blinking wildly, holding back what she did not want to happen, yet she did not let her hand waver. She was afraid he would see, but another hand fingered a dagger, hidden. "That's a good question, Voren," was what she said, through gritted teeth. "Why don't you tell me in the answer in a five-paragraph essay? Then we can analyze it, look at it from all angles, whatever it is you normally do. Now are we done? There's a call you need to make." She reached for the comm in the center of the long table. After activating it, she slid it over to him.

Voren looked down at it, then up at her. There was something unnerving about his eyes that almost mimicked Demi's. They saw. They saw all.

"I'm trying to change, old man," Renee said, her jaw quavering. The air was quiet between them now; she was calling upon the brief friendship-if you could call it that-or at least the understanding that had once been there before. "Help...me."

Somebody on the comm answered. "Welcome to the Republic base headquarters in Nar Shaddaa," said a recorded woman's voice. "All our lines are currently busy, however we will soon have an officer to speak to you. Please hold."

Voren smiled mockingly. "And here you thought you were perhaps the biggest news on the Smuggler's Moon since the destruction of G0-T0's yacht."

Here he broke into a fit of coughs, harsh ones, ones that choked the air from his lungs, yet he revived, and Renee just watched through it all, silently. "You talk of change, Renee. Yet everything you do, all of your actions, lead back to death. Look at reason, assassin. Your last, real option, the one that will set you free, is to kill the Jedi Exile. You know this." Voren straightened himself in his wheelchair. "You have nothing, Renee," he said, and the words stung Renee hard, yet she had always known they were true. She didn't have Jaq, not anybody. Nothing. "Why fight for something that does not exist?"

"Yeah, that's real sweet, Voren," Renee drawled, swallowing hard. "But I'm not gonna bend down to you or succumb or whatever the hell it is you-"

She was interrupted by a voice coming back upon the comm. "We are sorry," said the same, smooth female voice. "Your connection seems to have broken. Please try again."

Silence.

Voren was smiling again, and Renee felt unshackled anger begin to rise in her blood. "You are a killer, Renee. You are fooling yourself if you think otherwise."

"Who said anything about fooling?" Renee said slowly, emerald eyes widening, then lips forming a grim smile.

Simultaneously, she let go the dart and let go a dagger she had also been holding, letting them fly towards him. But what happened next she did not expect. A force field on Voren's wheelchair suddenly burst forward and became visible, forming a shield all around him and blasting back both dart and dagger. They struck hard against the wall and fell, both broken. Then the shield was gone.

But not Voren. He thrust his hand forward, and, standing only slightly in his seat, grasped Renee around her neck, and held her up in the air. He tightened his grip as though to crush her neck, and hissed his next words, as Renee gasped in pain. She suddenly found herself in the position she had put Demi in back in the dream. The same position Revan had held her in, long before. But there was something different about this. It was not the Force, but an electrical energy coming from his wheelchair, through his scarred arm, and into his hands then her neck. It was strong, and paralyzed her from getting out of his grip.

"Kill Demi," Voren said darkly, anger flashing in his eyes. "Or turn yourself in. I do not care which one. I no longer care what happens to you. But don't expect to return until you have truly decided. What do you see as redemption? Or freedom?" His voice had deepened, his fury and frustration filled the air around her, dizzied her. Or perhaps that was his hand around her neck. "Decide, Renee. Decide, for there will come a day when there will be nobody to tell you where to go, and there will be no room for weakness."

With that, he let her go, flinging her across the room and through a glass window, where she tumbled and fell again and again. She was above Nar Shaddaa now, and she still felt like she was choking. His hand felt as though it was still there, squeezing the little life she had left out of her. Bruises and cuts were added to her cheeks, and once Renee had come to a stop, near the edge of the roof, she did not make a move to get up. She stayed there, curled up in a fetal position, and cried, cried, cried.

:.Aboard the Ebon Hawk.:

Demi worked quickly, taking all of the listening devices that had been planted around the Ebon Hawk, and throwing them beyond, out of the landing pad until they disappeared down, down into the city below. It would take minutes for them to find the ground again and crash. With each throw was Demi's frustration and anger finding an escape. With each throw she named her mistakes (_Renee, Atton, Leo, HK, T3, Brianna..._) and with each throw she vowed never to do so again. To become better. Throwing the listening devices down to the city and lights below seemed like a metaphor now. Trying to fly...Only to fall down...broken...never to be fixed again. Vengeance was throbbing in her blood, in her mind, so thirsty after such a long time of forced silence.

_No._

The last one finished, Demi fell back and breathed hard. _No. I can't think that way. That's not...the solution. _

She walked back up the ramp to the ship, went into the medical room where Brianna still lay in her coma, and crumpled into a seat, thinking hard about a way to undo all of the past events. She was all alone now. What could she resort to? Time could not be unraveled to solve this.

"Options," she thought to herself. "Attempt to recklessly break into the impenetrable fortress that is Vincentii, steal Brianna's cure, save Atton and Leo, force someone to fix T3 and HK, then escape fully intact and unharmed into the universe to deal with Nausuma...Or attempt all of the above and get killed...Or stay here and die...Or give up." She slammed her fist against the wall, ignoring the resounding pain in both bones and muscles. She needed that pain to remind her. "That last one can't even be considered. So far, the first one seems best...if the impossibility and the death rate of it weren't so high." She turned to Brianna, speaking more to herself than to the closed eyes before her. "What can I do that doesn't involve anyone else getting hurt?"

Brianna wouldn't answer her.

"Nothing, of course. That would be too simple."

_There is always sacrifice, _she thought. _I learned that, if anything, from Malachor. _

A flood of restlessness and uselessness and shame came crashing down upon her all at once, and she paced into the main hold once again, deciding to call Bao-Dur as to how to fix T3 and HK, only to stop short at who she saw.

It was a certain brunette, reaching up to grab something from the top of the ceiling of the main hold, only to run out and toss it over the edge, down to the city below.

"You forgot that one," Renee said. She looked around, hands on hips. "Seems you got rid of the rest of the listening devices pretty well though. You're very efficient, aren't you?"

"When I need to be," Demi said, recovering quickly. "Now get out." There was a calm and control with how she said it, which only emphasized the forcefulness of the statement, but behind the stoic posture there was a quaver of uncertainty and anger.

"Hey, D," Renee said, holding up her two hands in supposed defeat. She stepped deeper into the main hold, nearing the table behind which Demi stood. Demi noticed the new bruises and cuts she had on her face. The new wounds added both intimidation and sorrow to Renee's features. "It's all cool. I'm not mad. Considering you killed me in the last dream I had, please don't ask me for details. But now I'm wondering if me leaving is really what you want, considering that I have all the answers to the questions you're asking yourself right now."

"You want me to trust you, but seeing as the blame of the losses of all my companions rests on _you_, I highly doubt that I'm going to anytime soon."

"D, you know how it is. You don't pay attention, you lose out. Simple as that. You should have known better, Demi!" Her voice was silky smooth, almost taunting. "Now is not the time to fall in love."

"If that verb could be controlled, its timing decided, I would have taken that into consideration. I no longer consider it a weakness. What else do you have to say to me?"

"I did what I had to do. You of all people should know the feeling. Not that you need reminding, but you chose to blow up thousands of people during the Mandalorian Wars. We both knew what we had to do. None of your companions are even dead, Demi, in contrast to all of those you willingly murdered in the Wars."

"Willingly?" Demi's eyes flared.

"Right, you did it for the greater good. Now, I did this for _my _greater good. Your reason is less selfish, but hey. Survival is survival. Choices are choices. Now, I'm just wondering if you understand what you need to do _now_."

"And what would that be?"

Renee smiled slightly, sadly. "Well, I figure breaking into a large company with the utmost high-tech security isn't so preferable. But maybe that's just me. Not without a plan anyway. Which I happen to have. Being a fellow captive employee and all."

"Well, you can keep it," Demi said flatly. "I don't trust you." She never moved her eyes from Renee's.

"Neither do I, so we're even." She didn't specify whether she meant herself or Demi. "Look," Renee said, and inhaled sharply. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm not even doing this for Jaq. I'm doing this for me. Is that so hard to believe?"

Coolly, Demi said, "What other justifications do you have? What I believe is that you're just waiting for me to give in, waiting for me to believe you, one of my many weak traits, so that you can round up the last of us and bring us before Vincentii. Or am I wrong in assuming this?"

Renee's eyes turned hard. "You want justification?" Silently, she slipped her hand into her pocket. Then, her hand re-emerged whilst clasping a small vial. Keeping her eyes on Demi's, she slid the small vial across the table.

How small it was. A clear, glass bottle no taller than three inches. There was a paper wrapped around it that labeled it: VC Lab#2301 lvl: -20. Care.: Dr. Freya. Spec.: visanherb. Use: #A264 (search: med.) The same as in the dream. How strange to think that something as small and seemingly insignificant as this could possibly be the solution to so many problems.

But Demi betrayed no outward emotion. Her eyes that had briefly flicked down to it rejoined with Renee's. "It could be anything inside that bottle. It could be something that will temporarily revive Brianna, only to put her back into the coma after you have gotten what you need from me. Or maybe it will just outright kill her. You can't just shove something across the table and expect me to believe it is the cure. Especially not after all of your other actions which lead me to not only highly distrust you, but to strangely have this urge to do something a lot more permanent than that."

"And Jedi aren't violent, huh?" Renee rolled her eyes. "Look, Demi, it's not poison. The last thing I want to do is kill Brianna if I want your trust."

"Drink some of it," Demi said. "And maybe I'll change my mind."

Renee held the bottle out for Demi to see, her actions exaggerated as though she was a magician performing a trick before the audience. Then, she poured some of the visanherb into the cap, once again showed proof to Demi that the liquid was indeed in there, and downed it.

"Ahh," Renee said, smacking her lips. "Refreshing."

"That's lovely, Renee. But the poison might not affect those who are not under a Sith enchantment, like Brianna is."

Exasperated, Renee put the vial back down on the table. "What else do you want me to do? The first thing you mentioned can only be disproved by giving it to Brianna. Taking a leap of faith."

Demi thought for a moment. "I want you to repair HK and T3."

Renee nodded her head. "Done."

She walked towards the still shapes of the two droids in the main hold, and knelt down in front of them. From within one of her pockets, she retrieved her hydrospanner.

"A simple hydrospanner can fix this state, then?" Demi inquired, scrutinizing her movements carefully, since this was definitely something she needed to get better at.

"No. That would have been too easy.-And don't even bother saying you could have done it yourself. We've been keeping tabs on you. We know how, well, _sucky_ you are at this. Only one with a lot of inside info on Vincentii would be able to fix the droids, since they didn't want you to simply be able to hire a tech of sorts to do this."

"You mean, _you _didn't want." _She's right, _Demi thought. _My next move would have been to call Bao-Dur. _

Renee laughed softly. "If that's how you see things. But let's clarify something. I don't work for Vincentii. I'm used, utilized for purposes I don't wanna be part of. I'm trapped there. But not for long." That part was whispered. She took out a number of different tools and tinkered with HK's and T3's memory cores and other compartments.

"Voren actually wanted these droids to wake up on their own," Renee was saying. "They'd wake up after a time, and they'd point you in the direction of Vincentii. They're waiting for you. And they're ready. Okay, okay, wait!" Renee reached inside T3's circuitry. "What exactly is _this, _Demi?" She brandished a second hydrospanner at her, which she had found inside, before setting it down. "Very sloppy of you, Demi, I have to say. Even for you."

Demi blushed. "Just get the job done," she said darkly.

Renee's lips turned up at the corners slightly. Finally, she stood up and held what appeared to be a metal detector of sorts that glistened blue. She held that up to HK's memory core, and T3's in turn. The hatch to their memory cores opened, and she skillfully typed in codes to each one. There was a whirr, a vibrating sound, then a constant hum as though of a warming up of a machine.

"They'll need a few seconds to re-download their lost memories," Renee said. "They were just sent to a back-up memory core. They'll be just as good as before soon. All we did was shut their systems down temporarily. Like a coma. But for robots."

"Like the coma Brianna is in," Demi said.

Renee shook her head. "Different. True, they were both caused by Vincentii Sith, but they require different cures. Remedies are different for droids and humans."

Demi cocked her head to the side. "You certainly came well-prepared. What with the hydrospanner and metal detector thing already with you and all."

"I don't have a lot of things that belong to me. You learn to carry things around; you never know when they'll come in handy. Plus, I had my suspicions about what you'd ask me to do."

Just then, there was a sudden whirring sound, a few beeps, and T3 awoke. He glided in circles around Demi as though in celebration.

"Exclamation: I am alive again! Revision: Well, as alive as a droid can be, anyway. I prefer this, the feeling of electricity flowing through my circuitry and the anticipation of the blood and killing soon to come over your meatbag squishiness any day. Shocked Examination: Why, Master, this is the assassin you have been attempting to hunt down for the past few days!"

HK-47 raised his blaster rifle. "Observation: She was with those Sith that came aboard our ship. Recitation: I will gladly kill her for you now, Mast-"

Demi hurriedly rushed over and pushed his rifle down. "No, HK. At least, not yet. She was the one who brought you back to life, believe it or not. Don't do anything yet. We'll just have to see." She glanced over at Renee, who hung back and merely re-pocketed her hydrospanner and metal detector silently, a slightly humored expression on her face.

"Realization: Ah, yes, of course, Master. It could not have been you. You seem to be incapable of repairing anything without getting a hydrospanner stuck in a place that it should not."

"Yeah, okay, I've really missed you," Demi grumbled slightly, but she felt a slight surge of gratitude all the same. _Be careful_, she reminded herself. _You still cannot be entirely sure about her intentions. _

"I'd like to hear of this plan you keep on mentioning," Demi said to Renee, but the brunette shook her head.

"We should wait until Brianna wakes up. I really, really don't like repeating myself. Look, if anything goes wrong with Brianna--which it won't--it's already three against one. You've got the droids, I'm here alone. I don't always make the smartest decisions, D, as you've undoubtedly noticed by now, but there are some risks I know would just be damn stupid to take."

Demi took the bottle of visanherb from the main hold's table and inspected it, marveling how the light hit the glass, how clear the contents were. "If anything worse happens to Brianna," she said, her tone very serious, "I won't hesitate in killing you."

Renee had no jokes this time, and merely nodded. "I believe you, D. You didn't exactly hesitate in the dream, did you? -If that counts for anything."

"Is anyone at Vincentii aware that you took this?"

"Nope. It's been under close guard, but I know my way around. And Yashel sent boxfuls of this stuff. Unless they've been obsessively counting them, no one's going to miss it." Renee watched Demi's blue and green eyes scrutinize the vial. "Does it pass your inspection? Check the label on it. I'm guessing you memorized the slip of paper I left in our little dream."

"To the last colon. But how do you know of this?"

"I think, Demi, that there are forces larger than us at work here."

_The Force? _Demi mused. _Or is there someone who can make us see things, illusion us? But for what purpose?_

Renee's face was impassive. _She has less of an idea than I do. _

"This is the real deal, Demi. It's as real as my swan tattoo that'll never go away. That should be a permanent enough allusion for you, yeah? If you still choose to not believe me, well, then I'll be on my way. You've got your, ah, metallic bodyguards here," she knocked lightly on T3's armor plating as she passed by him, causing T3 to beep disapprovingly. "And maybe with them, you'd be able to figure something out. But I've got the security codes, the layout of Vincentii, a knowledge of the security, the location of Atton and Leo, and most of all, influence in Vincentii. True, it's...not what it used to be. But I still intimidate the guards enough, and that's always helpful." Her eyes twinkled. "But if you can't trust me that this is the real cure, I'm leaving. That's not a threat. Well, it sort of is. Basically, I'm just reasoning that all of us, teaming up together, to rescue White Haired Boy and Rand, possibly kick Voren's ass, and definitely get us off of this junk heap planet...We'd be so much more effective with our knowledge and skills combined. Just think about it."

Demi looked up at Renee. The look in Demi's eyes was more penetrating than all of the interrogation lights of the Republic officials combined. "I have," was all she said. She turned towards the medical bay. "Follow me. HK and T3, don't stand more than three feet away from her."

"Loyal Statement: As you wish, Master." The eagerness for retribution dripped from his sardonic voice. "With pleasure."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Renee said, but she was a good sport about it.

In the med bay, Demi took a seat beside Brianna, and unscrewed the cap. _Brianna, _she said gently with her mind, pressing the pale hand that lay by Brianna's still side. _Things aren't going so well out here. But I'm thinking there's something you'd like to hear. We have your cure._

Renee sat on the other side of the table and exchanged glances with Demi. She had heard what Demi had said.

"She's probably too far gone to reply back to you," Renee said. "She can still hear you though. We're just in time."

"I keep forgetting. You're Force sensitive. That's one of the reasons Revan recruited you, isn't it?"

"This isn't about me," Renee said, roughly, but not aggressively. "Let's focus on White Haired Echani Girl here, okay?"

"Well, here goes," Demi said. She poured the visanherb out from the vial, and transferred it into a syringe. The visanherb might as well have been water, but it gave off a refreshing, heady sort of scent that Demi couldn't quite classify. Demi replaced the needle with a new one, and then carefully injected it into Brianna's skin.

"Ten seconds," Renee said softly, knowingly.

Demi turned back to Brianna. Nine. Nothing. Eight. Nothing. Seven. Was that an eyelash fluttering? Six. Eyelids flickering? Five. Demi could feel life coming into Brianna again. Blood circulated with more life behind it. Four. A presence. Instead of just feeling emptiness, she felt an awareness coming from Brianna. Three. She was waking up. Two. She was. One. A loud exhale, and two very blue eyes were suddenly staring upwards.

The Handmaiden had woken. Slowly, weakly, she lifted herself up to a sitting position. "I'm awake," she said, almost disbelievingly. "The darkness...It is gone." She turned to face Demi. "But how? You were able to find Yashel?"

Demi smiled and shook her head. "We did, but he wasn't the one who had the cure in the end. It was her." She nodded at Renee, and Brianna turned her gaze.

"She is not anyone that I have met before," Brianna said slowly. She turned back to Demi. "Why would she help us? Who is she?"

"The name's Renee. Renee Lunecaster. And I'm doing this so I can get the hell off this planet. To do so, I need Demi's help, and to get her help, I need her trust. Thus, you. Simple enough for your comprehension?"

Brianna's lips tightened. "I get the feeling that if you did not need me to gain Demi's trust, you would never have healed me."

"Hey." Renee shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. But I did heal you, didn't I? So, let's not waste time on the past."

"What have I missed?" Brianna inquired of Demi.

_Well..._ Demi wasn't sure of where to start. A lot had happened. She took a deep breath. "Atton and Leo are both being held captive in Vincentii. HK and T3 were previously frozen, but Renee repaired them. She also healed you. But she's also responsible for Atton and Leo being kidnapped, as well as other things. Things have changed, though. Possibly. She says she has a plan. Whether or not we go through with it is questionable. But for now, I want to hear her out. There's been a seal put over Nar Shaddaa that won't be taken down unless Renee's captured. Or killed. Or unless she kills us. Or unless we help her help all of us. It's a complicated kind of thing."

Brianna nodded slowly. "I...can see that." Her eyes looked forlorn. "Atton...and Leo. She better have a good plan." She turned an icy gaze on Renee.

"Alright, that's my cue to go." Renee held up both hands in surrender, as though she had expected this. "I'll be in the main hold. Entourage, you ready?" she said, in reference to HK and T3. Demi nodded affirmation for HK and T3, and the three of them went back to the main hold.

"I am sorry that I have missed so much and that so much has gone wrong," Brianna said to Demi. "But it appears to me that with three of us revived, we may have some chance of setting this right. If this Renee does not betray us, that is. I wish I knew more about her."

"You can trust me. And I know we can trust HK and T3. We'll get through this. We still haven't decided whether or not to go through with her plan. We'll just have to see, but we'll decide together."

Brianna nodded. "I trust your judgment, Demia Thress, so whatever happens, I'll be right behind you." Then, she broke into an unexpected smile. "In spite of everything, a large part of me is so relieved, Demi. You can't imagine how long those hours were that I encountered while I was asleep. When you're asleep, hours pass by so fast, until it comes time for you to wake again. But I was trapped in a sleep, not fully here, not fully there, just being slowly devoured. The darkness took over and stayed for a long reign, it seems. But I can breathe again." Her blue eyes sparkled. "It is a good feeling."

Demi smiled too, and it reflected in her blue and green eyes. "Glad to hear it. I can only imagine. Come on, let's go to the main hold."

"All set?" Renee asked. She was sitting down, with her legs crossed at the ankles on top of the table. Brianna joined another nearby one and heartily ate and drank the food and water she had been lacking for many days.

Demi crossed her arms and faced her. "Don't make me regret saying this, Renee, but I owe you one for all of this. More than one, actually."

"Of course you do, sweetums," Renee said, her emerald eyes sparkling. "What, you think I'm expecting to bring down Voren alone?" Her voice suddenly became a lot more serious. "Now, listen. The trap they've got set up for you over at Vincentii has many layers. Granted, they didn't try their absolute hardest, considering you're only one person, as they think you're still alone in this, and considering how easy it was to get everyone else-no offense. But it's security enough." She gave a soft chuckle. "Funny how foes can turn to allies in the blink of an eye, huh?" She shook the hydrospanner at Demi. "_Allies_, not friends."

"For now, anyway." Just like Renee earlier, Demi did not specify which one she meant. "Alright, so, I'm listening. What's the plan you suggest?"

Renee mouth broke into a smile, and then a knowing grin. "I thought we'd never get there."

:.Somewhere in the Nar Shaddaa Vincentii base.:

"So...liking the room. It's very...dark. Uh, eerie. Sets a mood. Really relaxing. Almost...what's the word...serene."

"Atton," Leo said, tiredly.

"I know," Atton said, his voice becoming darker and just as weary. "Just checking if you're still here."

"Well," Leo said stiffly. "Judging by our current conditions, it doesn't appear as though I'm going to be going anywhere anytime soon."

He was lying on his back, on some hard, smooth table-like structure with three mysterious currents of blue energy encircled around him, holding him there. The first was at his knees, the second, his midsection, the last, his neck. Any movement in to bypass these circlets would result in the approximation of attempting to walk out of a force cage. It wouldn't be pretty. The same was the case with Atton, however they could not see each other. The room, spare for the circlets of blue light that briefly illuminated the other's face, was completely dark, and it hurt to try to twist their neck to look around. Neither had the slightest idea about the actual width or height of the room. The only thing that was for certain was that they were trapped.

"It was Renee," Leo said, to Atton's unanswered question. "I finally met her. Met her, and somehow ended up here."

"You meet her, you usually end up deep in some trouble," was all Atton said. "Such as tied, strapped down, and trapped in some dark room, much like, by some coincidence, we are now."

"She told me that Voren wanted to talk to me," Leo said softly, staring up at the ceiling that he could not see, hoping in vain that some strange pattern of shadows would reveal an answer to him. But he could not even see the shadows.

"Yeah? Well, I personally have no idea why I'm here. Sure, I can think of a few, vague reasons. I mean, I've tried to kill her on numerous occasions, but that doesn't really make me deserving of such hostility!"

"Who in their right minds would think that, Atton?"

"Exactly! Force. Women."

They heard the slamming of a door farther off, the echoed off the walls. Footsteps. Atton and Leo instantly quieted.

Wheels, rolling and creaking their way over from the shadows and nearer to the two captives. "Hello, Leo," the voice said. "Long time no see."

"I wouldn't exactly say that," Leo managed to say, somehow keeping his voice level and the spite to a minimum. "Seeing as I can't exactly _see _you on account of whatever these blue energy currents are. But whatever you say, Voren."

Voren laughed quietly. "It appears that I have much to thank you both for. Atton Rand, for breaking out of your prison at the Vincentii headquarters beneath the cantina, and for setting all of the clones loose. The damage was temporary. That headquarters is now back on its feet and fully functional."

"Well, congrats then," Atton said. "It was no problem. I'd do it again if I had the chance to."

"Oh, you won't," Voren said, nice as you please, and his eyes glinted mechanically. "Don't even worry about it. And Leo." He creaked his wheelchair in his direction. "I have even more to thank you for."

"Apparently you got along quite fine without the bottle of Clarande-V I stole. Why take us captive?" Leo questioned.

"My Sith hurt Brianna and sent her into a coma in order to lure you here, to the one place that possesses her cure. But why, you ask? To exact revenge? Because of the faulty equipment you gave us or because you did not reveal the last important step in the process of making Clarande V? Because you stole a vial of our most advanced version of it? No. As you might have noticed, Leo Thress, we have furthered much past this, despite the lack of technology that you took with you when you left our company. Our need for them is no more, and I wouldn't dream of bringing you here under something so trivial as revenge. I am more practical than that, as you will see."

"Right," Leo said, not hiding the sharpness in his tone. "I'm guessing, however, that revenge will somehow end up in your agenda in some form or another. Now, I will ask you again. What do you want from us? What do you plan to do with Demi?"

Voren smiled at that, as though he had long been expecting that question. "Don't worry about Demi," he said, and Atton's blood ran cold. "She'll be in good hands, that I can assure you of. You ask what we want from you. It's merely that we cannot allow you to progress further. You want to aid Revan and that will prove futile." His voice, earlier coated with false friendliness, now turned harsh. "Revan is Revan, and she will not change. She will soon forget the mission that she set out to accomplish when she left for Nausuma, and nothing will be able to bring her back. She is _meant _to be Darth Revan. It is in her blood, it is written deep in her destiny. Things are already falling into place. We cannot afford to let you wander into Nausuma and knock down the cards we have so carefully set up."

"Who is 'we,' Voren?" Leo questioned angrily.

Voren just smiled. "We'll continue this...little chat later. When you next wake up, you'll undoubtedly find a certain blonde imprisoned next to you. For now, rest! Enjoy what you have, these few breaths that remain." He turned his back on them and made his way back to the door shrouded in darkness from which he had come. "Very few will find it remorseful if you never wake up."

Neither Leo nor Atton was able to contradict his words, for Voren gave the order and each was injected with a chemical. And each found waiting for them a dark, unending sleep.

:.Coruscant.:

Carth watched as the two ships at the docking bay were loaded with crates filled with food, weapons, and supplies. His face was a mask, imperturbable, yet his eyes betrayed him, full of conflict, uncertainty, and fear.

"Father." Dustil came behind him. "How are you holding up?"

Carth shook his head. "I hardly know, son." He turned to look at him. "I don't even know if this is the best idea. You, coming along, I mean. You started your Jedi training, what, a few days ago? And-"

"Please," Dustil said, holding up a hand. "I've had practice with a lightsaber before. Korriban, remember? It's definitely not the same, they're on opposite sides of the spectrum. But I'm capable enough. Trust me, I should be the least of your worries."

"Ian! What in the Force are you doing?" Bastila shrieked further off.

"What?" Ian said guiltily, looking around. He had been using the Force in an attempt to levitate one of the crates and put it inside the ship. "I was just..."

"Practicing? Yes, I know. Please don't." Bastila sighed. She looked around. "Bao-Dur, where are you?"

"I'm right here." His voice, as always, even in all the bustling turmoil, was calm, consistent, and steady. "What do you need?"

"Demia Thress is in Nar Shaddaa right now, you said?"

"That's correct," Bao said bemusedly. "I take it you're not so happy about that."

"They're off track. They should be way off into cyberspace by now." Bastila wiped a stray hair away from her face agitatedly. "Where's Griff?"

Mission came walking up, carrying a crate in her arms, Zaalbar doing the same beside her. "He's a comin', don't you worry Bassy. I don't know what he's doing, but he'll be here."

"He better," Bastila declared. "We need him for this."

"Bastila," Juhani said, walking up beside her, her voice accented as usual, almost coming out in a deep purr. "We still need to decide who is riding in what ship with who."

"Right. Yes."

"I don't think you need to sweat it," Mira said, setting down her crate. "I mean, we're all going the same place. We're gonna meet up eventually. Just get on the ship nearest to you, that's what I say."

"No, no," Bastila said wearily. "We need to split ourselves up according to our strengths and weaknesses. If something goes wrong, if we get separated, we need to be assured that we'll each be able to survive on our own. I know we're all capable, some more than others, but this is just the best way to do this. Besides, not all of us can pilot a ship."

"She's more uptight than you, blondie," Mira said, sitting down on her crate and nudging Mical. "That's something I never thought I'd say."

"Yes, that's..." The meaning hit him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I can pilot one ship," Carth volunteered, finally joining the crowd. "And I'm guessing Bao-Dur can too."

Bao-Dur nodded. "I was a tech during the Wars. It's not the same, but it's enough. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do."

"Are you sure that's a...wise idea?" Bastila questioned, eyeing his mechanical arm a little untrustworthily.

"I assure you, Bastila, my arm is capable of many things, breaking through force fields and piloting ships included." He smiled wryly and the cyan color of his repulsor arm seemed to glow. "And, if by any chance an enemy slips and finds his face right where the energy is supposed to be...well, he'll need more than cosmetic surgery to help him. So...it's multi-purpose."

"Wonderful." Bastila took a deep breath. "All right. Here is what I suggest in terms of our ship arrangements. Carth will be in one ship, the_ Defiant Horizon_, I'll be in the other. Bao-Dur will pilot the _Eternal Sonata _and since I want Griff to be on my ship for informative purposes, especially as we near Nausuma-"

"Oh man," breathed Griff, who had joined up with the party.

"-He can join me and Bao-Dur. I'd like Mission to accompany him, and Zaalbar will join us as well, since he and Mission work so well together."

Mission and the wookiee exchanged hidden high-fives.

"We will also bring Visas because we need another person on our ship who knows the Exile well. As for the _Defiant Horizon_, which Carth will pilot, his son Dustil can join him, as well as Ian, since they are training together. Juhani and Jolee will join them since they are teaching them the ways of the Force. Mira and Mical will travel with them as well."

"Sounds fine," Carth said. "Let's just get going." He started up the ramp.

He no longer knew whether he wanted to stay or go, but waiting was apparently no longer an option, and this in-between phase was starting to kill him.

Mira laughed. "I guess we're stuck together again, Blondie. See you all on the other side of the galaxy," she declared, and strode up the ramp to the _Defiant Horizon_.

The others split up to their respective ships, and Dustil and Mission found themselves walking up their separate ramps at the same time.

"Hey, Mission," Dustil called.

She looked over at him from behind her crate, part of her surprised, the other part, not at all. "Hey. Hey, Dustil."

"Do you think we could just...talk, later?"

Mission bit her lip and looked away for a second. Then, she pretended as though Zaalbar had called her from inside the ship. "Oh! Big Z's calling me. So, I'll...I'll see you in Nar Shaddaa, Dustil." She hastily disappeared inside.

"Right," Dustil said, left alone. "That's, that's fine...then."

Ian grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him into the ship. "Force, let's just get you off this planet before you make more of a fool of yourself. If that's even possible. How does that sound?"

Bao-Dur stepped into the cockpit of the _Eternal Sonata_. _It's definitely not the Hawk, _he thought. _But it's still a good ship. It'll do. _He settled into the pilot's seat, only all too aware of how little a time he had actually spent in the cockpit of the _Ebon Hawk_. This would take some getting used to. "After you, Admiral," he said over the comm.

The two ships sped off, one after the other, leaving the skyscrapers of Coruscant behind.

"I'm worried for Coruscant," Bastila said quietly, beside Bao-Dur, looking out the front window. "And if it should fall apart without us there."

"Coruscant survived for years before we were ever there," he replied, preparing for leaving the atmosphere. "And we can't be the only source of administration there. It will be fine, Bastila."

Bastila was quiet for a moment, contemplating that last sentence. She hoped to engulf it with not only her worries for Coruscant, but of what was to come. Nar Shaddaa...and the distant planet of Nausuma that would be waiting for them. "I do hope so, Bao-Dur."

The galaxy beckoned.

"I hope so."

* * *

A/N: There you go. By the way, I also edited the prologue, so if you take a look, let me know what you think of it. Thanks for reading :)


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